Outlaw of Ithilien
by Seadragon68
Summary: Very AU. Based on the myths of Robin Hood. Faramir is a mysterious outlaw in Ithilien and Boromir is the man sent to capture him. Slash but not incest.
1. Default Chapter

**This is a very AU story based on the many Robin Hood myths. In this story, there was no Sauron, no Rings and therefore, no Ring Wars. Gondor was still founded after the Fall of Numenior by Elendil. However, the line of Kings of Numenior was never broken.**

**All the character's histories have been changed andin a few cases somefamily relationships no longer exist.**

_It has been 50 years since the King went away. Went to fight a war in Dark Harad. None ever dreamed he'd be gone for so long. Nor that the Steward he left to guard his people would inflict such evil upon them…_

MINAS TIRITH

Denethor was furious. He crumpled the dispatch in his hand and threw it across the room at the man who had brought it to him. "What do you mean the convoy was attacked? I thought you had 20 men assigned to escort the gold from Rohan. How could it possibly have been waylaid?"

The soldier gulped and adjusted his stance nervously. "Well," he stammered, "The convoy was taken as it crossed over the border. The Fox of Ithilien and his men ambushed them. "

Denethor shot up from his seat, his face purple from rage. The Fox of Ithilien. That man has become a thorn in his side. No one knew the Fox's real name nor where he had come from. Only that 7 years ago, accounts had begun to come out of Ithilien about a mysterious stranger dressed in browns and greens who robbed only wealthy travelers and Denethor's sworn servants. Denethor had sent men into the woods to flush him out, only to have them come back tied to their horses with notes saying "Courtesy of the Fox". Time after time, he had tried to catch the illusive outlaw but with no success.

Of course it didn't help that the people of Ithilien loved him. The Fox gave money to the poor people of Ithilien and had been known to intervene when soldiers abused the peasants. Because of this, no reward was enough to convince the people to turn in the outlaw. Over time, men had joined the Fox until now he had a small band of outlaws that enabled him to attack larger convoys. This latest one cost Denethor dearly.

Denethor was enraged and screamed "Send word for my son! Tell him I need him here NOW!" The soldier gulped in terror, nodded his head swiftly and fled the room. He didn't envy Captain Boromir one bit having to deal with his father. He was in a right state and no mistaking it. Still, it was said that the Captain was his Father's pride and joy so maybe he'd have some way to get around the raging Steward.

OSGILIATH

Boromir was in the barracks of Osgiliath. He had recently returned from an inspection of Northern Gondor and was enjoying the relaxed atmosphere of the Common Room. Despite his position, he was much loved by the men and could often be found drinking and carousing with them. Boromir hated the stuffy life of court that awaited him every time he returned to Minas Tirith and so he generally avoided it as much as he could. This was a huge annoyance to his father, who was always telling him that he should pay more attention to the intrigues of court. After all, if the King did not return from the war, he would one day be Steward.

Boromir dreaded the thought that he might become the Ruler of Gondor. He had no interest in politics or power, preferring the straightforward life of a soldier. Still, unless King Aragorn grew tired war, there was no avoiding it and so he enjoyed himself while he could.

He was happily savoring a tankard of ale with the other off-duty soldiers when a messenger came into the Common Room. He made straight for Boromir and knelt before him. "My Lord, I come bearing a message from The Steward of Gondor" He held out the message to Boromir.

Boromir frowned. "Why can't that man ever leave me alone for just one day?" He gestured the man away who hesitated. "What?" snapped Boromir. The messenger fidgeted slightly and said, "My apologies, my Lord, I was told not to leave until I was sure that you would fulfill the request in the message."

Boromir snorted angrily and said, "That figures." He ripped open the message and scanned the contents. His frown only got deeper. "I'm to go to Minas Tirith at once. There is a matter that must be dealt with immediately. " He exchanged looks with his second in command, who shrugged and said "Our Lord Steward commands… we humble soldiers must follow." Boromir growled in response and said "Easy for you to say, Camcir. You aren't the one who has to attend the man."

The messenger still squirmed nervously. "May I tell him that you are on your way, my Lord?" Boromir heaved an angry sigh and said, "Yes, tell my Lord Steward I will be there shortly" The messenger looked greatly relieved and bowing, turned and left. Boromir glared once more at the missive from his father. It would appear his playtime was over…

ITHILIEN

Ithilien was a place of deep woods and secret places. It was in one of these places that the man known as the Fox of Ithilien had his lair. Currently he was sitting in a large cave surrounded by his men. They were tallyingup the loot from the latest raid and it looked like this one was larger then expected. This put a worried look on the face of the man known as the Fox and did not go unnoticed by Eomer, his second in command.

"Faramir, stop worrying. You are worse then an old granny. We got away clean and this money will see the peasants in warm food for the winter. Now stop fretting and break out the ale. It's time we celebrate our latest victory against Denethor. " This earned the blond a round of cheers from his fellow outlaws and Faramir smiled faintly. He knew that the others were excited about this latest raid but he couldn't help but worry about how Denethor would react to losing such alarge sum of money all at once. Still, there was nothing to be done about it right now and the men did deserve a celebration.

He smiled widely and called out "Pippin, how's dinner coming along?" In response to Faramir's question, a curly brown head popped out from around the corner. Green eyes sparkled with mischief as he said "Well, I wasn't exactly planning for any fancy celebration, so you'll just have to do with the venison stew I prepared. It's hot and it's ready if that will do you?" This brought another cheer from the group and long planks were set up on barrels to create tables and benches were pulled from the walls where they were stored. Everyone helped out equally, Faramir included. He may have been their leader but he lead by example, not by force. It was because of this that his men followed him so loyally. He would never ask them to take any risk that he wouldn't take himself.

The tables being set, Pippin began to ladle out bowls of stew. Baskets of bread, courtesy of the local peasants, were passed around and everyone sat down to have a merry feast. They lived simply here, since caves did not allow for too many amenities but the company could not be faulted. There was much mirth as the dinner was consumed and afterwards all relaxed with a tankard of ale. Faramir looked around the room at the men gathered here. Each one had his reason for being here. Each one had suffered in his own way thanks to Denethor, Steward of Gondor. Perhaps today would come back to haunt him but for now he was glad to have struck one more blow against The Black Crow of Gondor.

**_Author's Note: This is a slow developing story and the backgrounds and motivations of the characters will not all get revealed at once. I hope you will remain patient and wait for things but if you find yourself truly confused, put that in a review and I'll try to clarify it for you._**


	2. Chapter Two

**_For you Boromir fans out there, I'm afraid you are not going to like me too much for my characterization of him. My apologies if I'm messing with something you cherish but I needed him to have "room to grow" as a person. Please don't throw rotten fruit at me..._**

Boromir rode into the city of Minas Tirith to the sound of trumpets. This was his father's latest vanity – the insistence that the "Heir" be announced to the people. If and when the King did come home his father was going to have a lot of explaining to do. Not that any of that was Boromir's concern.

Boromir rode through the streets without really noticing the people who cheered for their Golden Knight. That the people of Minas Tirith admired him made little difference to him. He found life in the White City tedious and the people who lived there more so. Not that Boromir really knew the people of Minas Tirith. Even when he was here, he made little effort to walk the streets and see the people he spent his days defending. He generally felt that the "common folk" should be grateful that he took up the sword for them and not expect him to actually care about their drab little lives.

As he rode up to the Citadel, he schooled his features to look less bored. He had learned years ago not to show his disdain for Minas Tirith in front of his father. The White City was the heart of Gondor and his father brooked no insult of Her, taking it as an insult to himself.

Reaching the courtyard of the Citadel, he dismounted, letting one of the guards take the reins of his horse. He walked briskly up the steps and into the Citadel. At the doors to the Hall, he stopped and straightened his clothes and hair. Squaring his shoulders, he gestured for the soldiers at the doors to announce him.

Once announced, he moved steadily through the long hall. He could see his father impatiently tapping the White Rod against his palm, but Boromir refused to pick up his pace. He was not some sniveling servant to run scurrying to heel. By the time he reached the throne where his father sat, the man was red faced and fuming. He wasted no time laying into his son.

"You took your time getting here. When I say there is a matter to be dealt with, I expect you to come immediately. " He glared at his son, looking for some sign of contriteness, but Boromir merely looked back at him with the polite yet neutral face he kept especially for these occasions. Denethor's mouth tightened as he paused to decide on his method of attack.

He looked at his only son and heir and what he saw would make any man proud. Tall and well muscled, he held himself with the straight carriage of a true warrior. That he was also well favored in looks was an added bonus. Boromir's blond hair and green eyes, that he inherited from his mother's people, gave him an exotic look that made him a favorite among the women of the court. _Not that Boromir ever paid them any mind_… that irritating thought killed any kind sentiments that might have been surfacing.

He tightened his grip on the White Rod, as if to remind himself that he was Lord and Master here, and glared once more at his son. "I have a problem that I need you to handle. As you may have heard, a band of outlaws have set themselves up in Ithilien. They have been raiding caravans and robbing travelers for a number of years now and their insolence has reached a point where it can no longer be tolerated. Just recently, they attacked a convoy bringing tax money from Rohan. Do you have any idea how much gold that was? How much that cost me?" Denethor was practically spitting with rage.

Boromir looked at his ranting father and once again wondered what would happen if the King ever did come back from the war in Harad. His father had long since forgotten that he was only a caretaker of the realm and felt that he was the rightful Ruler of Gondor. While Boromir had grown up under his father's rule, he still heard tales about King Aragorn and his great love for his people. Aragorn was beloved even after a 50 years absence. The same could not be said for Denethor.

His father ruled Gondor with an iron fist and in the time of his Stewardship the borders of Gondor had expanded threefold. Rohan – which had always been a principality under King Aragorn – was now completely under the rule of Gondor. And his father hadn't stopped there – the territory of Hollin was now part of Gondor as well. Even the lands of the Halflings had been snatched up by his father's ambitions for an empire.

Denethor noticed his son's wandering attention and it only fueled his ire. "Boromir!" he snapped, bring his son's attention back to the present. "You will go to Ithilien and you will deal with this Fox. When you find him you are to bring him back in chains to face me. Failure is NOT an option, do I make myself clear?"

Boromir drew himself up stiffly, anger evident in every line "Yes, my Lord Stewart, you have made yourself abundantly clear. Do I have my Lord Steward's permission to retire? I have much planning to do." He did not bother meeting his father's eyes, staring instead at a place just to the left of his head.

Denethor looked for a few moments at his son, assessing his level of capitulation and deciding that he had won this round, said coldly "You are dismissed" Boromir bowed stiffly and turning on his heel, walked rapidly out of the hall.

Denethor watched his retreating back and shook his head. Boromir was proving more and more difficult as the years passed. He stubbornly refused to see that as Heir, he had certain responsibilities. All that Denethor was building, he was building for Boromir. His golden son would be ruler of a vast and rich empire. All Denethor asked in return was for Boromir to do his part to support Denethor's rule. Couldn't Boromir see that The Fox was undermining Denethor's authority? That the money he stole was money being taken not just from Denethor, but also from Boromir?

Fuming he got up and began pacing. He had to find some way to bring Boromir into line. When he had sent him off to head up the army, he thought it would be a good way for Boromir to establish his own connections and power base. Instead he became caught up in army life to the detriment of his political skills. The boy wouldn't even take a wife and the Valar only knew that he had thrown enough suitable candidates his way. This last point was the one that bothered Denethor most of all. If they were to establish any kind of legitimacy to their claims to the throne, Boromir must have a wife and better still a son.

Unfortunately, Boromir had proven highly resistant to the idea of taking a wife and he had managed to dodge all attempts to maneuver him into marriage. He had, on more then one occasion, flatly stated that the noble women of Gondor were weak minded and no amount of breeding could make up for that. He was not going to shackle himself with some totty-headed woman who would forever whine and nag at him for being away so much. He would sooner throw himself off the Seventh Level than put himself in THAT noose.

Still, it had to be done and there was little time left to waste. Perhaps the problem was that he was giving Boromir a choice in the matter. Maybe the more effective approach would be to arrange a political marriage – a contract that couldn't be gotten out of without causing a diplomatic situation. Denethor pursed his lips in thought. Yes, this might just be the way to bring Boromir to heel.

Boromir reached his rooms and slammed the door. Angrily he paced about the room. How dare his father treat him like some kind of lackey to be ordered about? _Failure is not an option_… when had Boromir ever failed him? He had been leading Gondor's armies for 10 years now and had gone wherever Denethor's greedy ambitions had sent him. And for all Denethor claiming that he was doing this for him, Boromir was no fool. This was for Denethor's pleasure, not his.

His father was the one who needed the power and position. He wanted a dynasty so that his name would live on – the greatest of all who ruled Gondor. Greater than Elendil himself, who had founded Gondor from the ruins of Numenior. He, no doubt, has dreams of statues being erected and songs being sung of Denethor the Great.

Boromir snorted in disgust. His father was obsessed and Boromir was dragged into that obsession whether he wanted it or not. And now he was to go to Ithilien and hunt down outlaws like a common sheriff. Damn it, he was the Captain General of Gondor. He had more important things to do than traipse about the woods looking for The Fox and his men.

He snorted again. The Fox – what kind of name is that? A fox is a weak, cowardly creature only good for fur trimming. A man who would take such a name is no doubt some sneaky, honorless creature who decided that being an outlaw was better then earning an honest living. His father's men must be pretty incompetent to have been unable to capture him.

Boromir sighed sullenly and threw himself into a chair. Regardless of how much of a waste of time it was to send him to Ithilien, his father was not going to let him off the hook. He was going to have to take some of his men and play sheriff. Thinking of his men, he realized that if he was going to suffer then Camcir, his second, was going to suffer right along with him…

Smiling evilly, he got out of the chair and headed for the door. Catching the attention of a passing servant he said "Please have word sent to Lieutenant Camcir that I need him to attend me in my study."

Boromir sat back down at his desk and grabbed a map. He had only been to Ithilien a couple of times since he joined the army. It was a place of mostly forests and farms – little that required an army's presence. There wasn't even a fort there, since historically Ithilien had been a quiet place. Or it was until this damn Fox decided to settle there.

Boromir poured over the map and tried to get a feeling for the territory. Ithilien was farms and villages interspersed between large stretches of woodlands. Boromir was going to have to use all of his tracking skills from his hunting days to bring in The Fox. Speaking of hunting, if he remembered correctly, the hunting was supposed to be particularly good there. He'd have to be sure to make some time for it before he had to bring the prisoner back to Gondor. Smiling to himself, he continued to memorize the map before him.

It was about 20 minutes later when he heard a knock. Boromir bid him to enter, knowing it would be Camcir. His Lieutenant was a typical Gondorian, dark haired and gray eyed. He tended towards the practical, which was fine by Boromir, since it meant he saw to all the details and paperwork that Boromir just couldn't bring himself to deal with. And now he was going to help Boromir put together a small troop of men to deal with his father's latest problem.

Camcir nodded briefly in greeting, Boromir having long since insisted on informality when there was no one around. He walked over to the desk, which was disappearing under mounds of paper and shook his head. "How is it that I leave you alone for no more then an hour and you've already managed to make absolute shambles of the paperwork?" He took the quill from Boromir's hand and placed it back in the inkwell.

Boromir grinned and said, "It's a gift. Besides, if I wasn't so disorganized what would you do with yourself? I know how much you thrive on conquering my mess"

Camcir smiled in return "I have to, otherwise I would have been driven balmy long ago by your chaos. " He looked down at the papers and the half buried maps. Boromir's handwriting was worse than chicken scratch, another reason Camcir did the paperwork, and he was unable to make out the subject. "So, what was the important matter that the Lord Steward had to drag you from Osgiliath?"

Boromir frowned and said "Apparently my father has decided that Captain General is not enough of a job for me and so he has decided to add Sheriff to the mix. " He picked up a paperweight from the desk and began to toss it back and forth between his hands.

Camcir, with years of long practice, reached out and took the paperweight away from Boromir before he damaged anything and set it out of reach. He then settled himself in another chair and said, "So what is your first duty as Sheriff?"

Boromir sulked for a moment at the removal of the paperweight and then sighed and said "I am to go to Ithilien and capture the outlaw known as The Fox and bring him back to my father for punishment. Apparently it's hard to get good help these days and his own men have proven insufficient." He picked up a piece of paper off the desk and began to fiddle with it.

Camcir watched him for a moment and decided that the paper wasn't important enough to need rescuing. "I have heard of this Fox. They say that he is quite elusive. That he's able to come and go throughout Ithilien with no one able to track him to his den. " Stepping into his role as second in command, he gathered paper and quill in preparation to make notes. "I think I also remember hearing that he's very particular in his targets. He will hit conveys guarded by the Steward's men but will leave farmers and tradesmen untouched. And he particularly likes to ambush tax collectors. In fact, I think I remember a story of one such tax collector being sent back in nothing but his underclothes with a thank you note pinned to him" Camcir tried to hide a small smile. He couldn't help but admire the audacity of The Fox.

Boromir, however, was not amused. "So he thinks he's clever, huh? Well, we shall have to see about that now won't we? He will not be feeling too clever when he kneels at my father's feet in chains" He jumped up from his seat and began pacing the room.

Camcir realized that something must have happened between Boromir and his father for him to be this worked up over the request. And while his loyalty was with Boromir, he also knew that capturing The Fox was not going to be a simple walk in the woods - _pardon the pun_. He had to calm Boromir down before he went off and did something rash.

"I know that this isn't exactly in keeping with the position of Captain General, but why not look at it this way? It does get you out of Minas Tirith for a while. And since your father is clearly upset about this, he's hardly going to send for you as long as you are on this mission. This is really not such a bad situation"

Boromir looked skeptically at Camcir and then slowly began to grin. "You're right. As long as I'm sending back reports showing some kind of progress, my father can hardly drag me back to play the court fool at some noble event. Camcir, I say we prepare to set out the day after tomorrow. No point in wasting time now is there?" He grinned and walked over to a small side table. He poured two glasses of wine and walked back over to the desk. Handing one glass to Camcir he said, "I propose a toast. To Ithilien and The Fox. Thanks to his thieving ways, I'm to be given a well deserved break" He raised his glass to his lips and took a deep swallow.

Camcir looked doubtfully at Boromir but dutifully raised his own glass and drank. One day was never going to be enough time to plan for capturing The Fox. He had a really bad feeling about this whole mission.


	3. Chapter Three

**_If you've made it this far, then you have obviously conquered any issues you have with my changes to characters. Hope this chapter continues to please..._**

It was a beautiful sunny day and Faramir had to restrain himself from pulling off his hood and mask. At times like these, the need for anonymity was a real burden. But since it was anonymity that allowed him to do the work that he did; work that was vitally important to so many people, it was a burden he would continue to shoulder. He remembered something his father had told him.

"Son, with power comes responsibility. Never forget that. It is the duty of the strong to take care of the weak. Otherwise, we become like wild beasts in the woods, taking without conscious or mercy. Civilization can hide many ills, my boy, never allow yourself to become complacent. Never allow justice to be subverted, no matter what the reason. You have a smart mind and a strong heart – always let them guide you and you will never go astray. "

Faramir felt tears form as he thought of his beloved father. He missed him so much. But he knew that his father would be proud of him for what he was doing. It was for his father's sake, as much as for the peasants he protected, that he did what he did. He was standing up for those who could not, just as his father had taught him. He wiped his eyes and once more watched the road. Now was not the time for reminiscing. He had a job to do.

As he looked around for any hints of danger, he saw the small things that told him that his men were in place. It took a very well-trained eye to pick them out. his men had become very skilled woodsmen over the years, and it was more from knowing where to look than actually seeing them that allowed him to spot them. He smiled beneath the mask and allowed himself to feel a surge of pride. These men had come to him, some angry and some broken, but all with the same desire: to see justice done. Over time he had slowly worked with them, molding them into a committed, cohesive team. The wild anger had been tempered into a desire to aid those who still suffered. The broken hearts and souls rebuilt into compassion for those in need. This was not about revenge and inflicting pain against those who had wronged them. This was about redressing a balance and this was done with honor, not anger.

A birdcall was heard and Faramir's head snapped up. That was the sign from the lookout that their man was coming into place. Faramir readied himself by quietly drawing his sword. His men would cover him from the trees; he had no worries about his safety. Had the man been followed, the lookout would have signaled for them to retreat. As his eyes watched the road, his ears listened for thesounds of their arriving visitor. It wasn't long before the sound of a cart was heard. As it came out of the trees, Faramir moved out of his cover and stepped onto the road. He carried his sword in one hand and raised the other to signal the cart to stop.

The man drew up his horses immediately and tied off the reins on the seat. He then slowly raised his hands to indicate that he was unarmed and no threat. Faramir nodded his head and walked towards the cart. When he had come alongside the driver, the man looked down on him with a smile and said "Well, it's a fine day indeed and make no mistake on that. A nice day for traveling it is. Though perhaps not as fine a day for you with all that get up on. Bet you are wishing for a nice cool dip in a lake right about now."

Faramir smiled, though the cart driver could hardly see that. He sheathed his sword and said "That would be nice indeed, Angarad, but I'm afraid that will have to wait until our business here is concluded. We have need for you to make some deliveries in Southern Ithilien and Gondor. I also need you to make arrangements for a delivery to Rohan. Do you see any problems with that?"

The cart driver shook his head. "Travel through Ithilien and Gondor is simple enough. There's a few patrols on the borders of Ithilien, but I make the trip so often that they don't bother searching me anymore. And even if they did, the bolt holes are secure enough they'd never find them. I'd make the trip to Rohan myself but that might cause some suspicion on the Rohan side of things. They've grown a might bit antsy since Denethor has been raising the taxes there and they were already pretty riled up about being put under the "protection" of Gondor. But I've got some trading contacts in Rohan who have been helping me and they'll be glad to see the delivery is received."

Faramir nodded in agreement. "Good then. Work through your contacts. I'd rather not have you exposing yourself to any more risks then you already are. You're very valuable to me and I'd be hard pressed to replace you." Faramir signaled to his men and half a dozen of them came forward, carrying large sacks. Faramir handed him a piece of parchment. "This contains the instructions for distribution. Destroy it when you've memorized it. And take great care. Denethor is going to be livid about this latest loss and you may find that he's instigated patrols and searches that haven't been there before."

The cart driver just grinned and said, "What's life without risks?" He climbed down from the driver's seat and walked around to where the men were carrying the sacks to be loaded. He untied the oilcloth that protected the contents of the cart and began carefully moving things aside. He then opened the cleverly concealed bolt holes and the men began to hand him the sacks for storage. Faramir watched all of this with a vague sense of unease. He couldn't put his finger on it but he had this feeling that something was coming. And it was coming because of this shipment.

The men had handed up the last sack, and the driver carefully closed up the bolt hole. Once sealed, you would never know that anything was there. He rearranged the wagon bed and retied the oilcloth, preparing to get underway. Faramir stopped him with a hand on his arm. "I meant what I said, please take care. Things are getting hotter and I don't want you to take any risks you don't have to." The driver just grinned. "Don't worry about me, I always take care of myself. You just look to your own hide. With the price on your head, someone might just be stupid enough to decide it's fox hunting season." With that final shot, he moved away from Faramir and climbed back onto his cart. Untying the reins, he slapped them down, signaling for the horses to walk on. As the cart passed Faramir he said, "Until next time my foxy friend".

Faramir just chuckled and waved. As the cart lumbered away, he melted back into the woods with his men. The money was on its way. Angarad would see it delivered to the people who needed it, including some in Rohan. He wished he could send it all back to Rohan, but there were so many people in need that he had to divide it as equally as possible. Still, there was enough going back to see that food was on the table for a large portion of the peasants of Rohan. He had to trust that their own nobles would do the rest.

He sighed in frustration. For all that he did, it wasn't enough. Even as large of a shipment as this one was, it was still just a drop in the bucket against what was actually needed. But if he wasn't careful and took too many risks, went too far afield, then he would get captured and there would be no one to help. He was caught between a rock and a hard place and there was nothing to be done about it. He could only do what he could and hope that others would also take up the cause. Already he had a large network of people who helped him, either by distributing money or providing him with information. And the groundswell rumbling of unhappy people was beginning to grow. Even the nobles were starting to chafe under Denethor's iron grip. Perhaps help might finally begin to come from the people who should never have allowed things to go this far. It was about time that the nobles of Gondor started living up to their titles.

Eomer dropped back when he noticed that Faramir was still bringing up the rear. He waited for Faramir to reach him and then began walking along side him. "You are doing everything there is to be done. Brooding about what is still left isn't going to change anything," he said bluntly.

Faramir sighed and said, "I know that but I can't help but think about it. Thanks to Denethor's empire building there are more people than ever who are suffering under his heavy-handed rule. We don't even know how the Hobbits in the Shire are doing. What if Denethor is demanding more from them than just hostages? Pippin says their wealth is in their land not in coins. What will he do if they can't pay? Will he take more of their children? Too many of them have already been stripped away from their homes. This can't be allowed and yet what can I possibly do to stop it?" Even with the mask, Eomer could easily recognize the distress on Faramir's face.

Eomer grabbed Faramir's arm and jerked him to a halt, effectively stopping his speech as well. "Faramir, you are borrowing trouble. If Denethor was levying taxes from the Shire, we would have heard about it from our people. A shipment coming that far would have to have a very large escort to see it to Gondor. We would have heard about it." He emphasized that last statement with a squeeze and then let go of Faramir's arm.

Faramir shook his head and said, "You're right. Something like that would have come through the grapevine to us. " Faramir began walking again and Eomer kept pace with him. Faramir could feel Eomer's eyes on him and knew that the blonde was still concerned about him. Eomer was his best friend and his most trusted ally, but sometimes his mothering was just a bit invasive. He heaved a sigh knowing that Eomer would stare at him all day until he got an answer he was satisfied with. "I'm just feeling a bit uneasy. I've got a vague feeling that something is going to happen."

Eomer grunted. "You've got a vague feeling something is going to happen. What are you some kind of seer now? The shipment is going to be fine. We're going to be fine. There's nothing happening around here, so we'll be able to lie low for a couple of weeks. I know it's hard to shut off that overactive brain of yours, but try. Otherwise I'll have to set Pippin on you and you know you don't want that."

Faramir groaned. Pippin could be relentless when it came to cheering someone up. He took it as his personal mission in life to see that everyone around him was happy and he'd follow you around for days if necessary to see it done. "Ok, you win. I'll stop brooding over Denethor, at least for a couple of days. Will that make you happy?"

Eomer grunted "Yeah, that will do for now". And with that he lapsed into silence as they made their way back to camp.


	4. Chapter Four

_**I'm afraid Boromir still isn't coming off very well here. I really don't have it in for him - I swear!**_

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Ithilien – Boromir

Boromir was still brooding, even after successfully escaping from Minas Tirith. His father had decided to see him off – not out of any fatherly concern – but to remind Boromir once again that failure to bring back The Fox was not going to be tolerated. That his father had restrained himself from doing it in front of the troops did not help in the slightest. When Boromir captured this Fox, he was going to make sure he suffered a bit before he got turned over to his father. He could always claim he resisted being taken.

He looked over at Camcir, who seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. Camcir had wanted to take more time to prepare for going after The Fox. He cited the lack of success made by previous hunters who knew the area far better than they did as his reason, but Boromir had overruled him. He stated that sheriffs were trained to deal with town bullies and pickpockets, not bandits and robbers and that was the end of the debate. Camcir had not agreed with this bit of logic, but finally resigned himself to following Boromir to Ithilien.

Boromir shifted restlessly in the saddle, trying to ease his stiff muscles. He had spent way too much time in a saddle lately. He was looking forward to being in one place for a while, and Ithilien was certainly a beautiful spot. The hunting lodge that he and Camcir were to use was situated about half a mile from the small town where the rest of the men were to be quartered and should afford him some privacy. He loved his men, but right now he could use a little peace and quiet.

Fortunately for his posterior, the hunting lodge came into view around the bend in the road. He heaved a huge sigh of relief and kicked his horse into a trot. Camcir followed suit and they were soon riding into the small courtyard outside the lodge. A young boy came out to take their horses and Boromir and Camcir dismounted. An older man came out – the resemblance making him likely to be the boy's father – and bowed deeply to Boromir.

"My lord, it is an honor to have you here. My wife has prepared rooms for both of you and hot baths will be ready shortly. Food has been sent to your rooms as you are no doubt hungry from your journey. If you will follow me, I will show you to your quarters. " The man bowed again and proceeded both men into lodge.

Boromir smiled for the first time all day. A hot bath and a meal was exactly what he needed right now. He followed the servant down the hall to his rooms and was pleased at what he found. A plentiful meal had been laid out and a bathtub waiting to be filled had been placed in front of the fire waiting to be filled. The servant bowed and said "With your lordship's permission, I'll head out to the horses and get your bags." Boromir gestured his approval while he began piling a plate with food. Clearly the servants here knew how to take care of people, as there was a small chicken along with cheese, fresh bread and butter and several apple tarts.

Boromir dug in happily and found the last of the day's tension began to fall away. He was miles from his father and would remain so for at least a couple of weeks. And he had nothing more to do than bring in a common cutpurse. He could take care of that in a week and spend the next couple enjoying the hunting. Life was definitely good…

Ithilien – Faramir

Faramir was in a back nook of the cave system taking inventory. While it was always important to keep an eye on their supplies, this time he was doing it more for the solitude. He just couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to happen. Something that would change everything.

Faramir had been having premonitions from the time he was a small boy. It was a gift he had inherited from his mother along with her coloring. Usually they came in the guise of dreams and showed him hints of what might be. Other times they were not quite so clear, just hints and flashes that he had to strain to figure out. But this was something entirely different. There were no images to tease him, but still he felt certain that what he was feeling was real. Something had changed and now things had been set into motion that could not be undone.

He shook his head. Thinking about it would not make it come any clearer. That was not the way the gift worked. Try to force it, and it slipped even further out of reach. The only thing to do was to put it aside and wait for more to come. He sighed and went back to counting food supplies.

Looking over his tallies, he was pleased to note that they had enough food to last for a month. He would feel much better if his men only left the base to do routine patrols. The cave of Henneth Annun was extremely well camouflaged but there was no point in taking unnecessary risks. This wasn't the first time they had to lay low for a while to let the heat die down and his men were use to finding ways to keep themselves busy. Though, he hoped for all their sakes that Pippin didn't take it into his head to try decorating the cave again. His attempts to make the place a little more cheerful had left everyone ready to throttle the little hobbit. If it weren't for the fact that Pippin was such a sweet creature, he would never have survived the attempt. Chuckling to himself, he made his way back to the main part of the cave.

Boromir

Boromir was in a very good mood. The bath had soaked away his stiffness from his time in the saddle and he was now enjoying a very nice wine while sitting with his feet propped up on a footstool. Camcir had joined him in his rooms after he had completed his own bath and now the two of them were sitting by the fire in companionable silence.

Camcir had wanted to go over Boromir's plans, but he had waved that away, saying that he was tired of hearing about the damn Fox and wanted one night without the slightest mention of his name. Camcir had looked mulish for a moment and then sighed and gave in. There was just no reasoning with him when he got in this mood. He would just have to tackle him in the morning and hope he could keep him from going off on some half baked capture attempt.

Boromir was pleasantly contemplating the prospect of hunting. The man servant had told him that the deer was quite plentiful around here and even the fishing was good. Boromir hadn't hunted in years since it was unbecoming of a Captain (or Captain-General) to hunt while out on the road. He had to admit that part of him missed the days when all eyes weren't on him and he was allowed to do things for himself. These days he always had to be "on". He could never have bad days or seem less than completely in charge. And everything had to come through him. Endless requests and even more endless reports. And while he managed to fob the bulk of the paperwork onto Camcir, there were some jobs that only he could do. Like go before his father and the Council to report on the troops. Why they bothered to ask, he had no idea since none of them had ever served in the army, but ask they did. Sometimes for hours. Sometimes it was all Boromir could do not to strangle them as they questioned every request for money or resources he asked for. Did they think armies could be maintained for nothing?

He shook his head angrily and took a large swallow of wine. He was not going to think about them either. Looking over at Camcir he said "Camcir, talk to me. Left to my own devices all I can think about is work. How about you tell me about that bar maid you've been seeing whenever we make it back to Osgiliath…" He grinned as a flush crept over Camcir's face. The man was far too easy. He watched as Camcir shifted in his seat and tried to decide if he was going to deny the accusation. Clearly realizing that Boromir would never let him off the hook, he sighed and said "Do you mean Muriel?"

Boromir raised his eyebrow in feigned shock and said "You mean you have more than one waiting for you?" Camcir's flush got deeper and Boromir just laughed. "My good man, you really are much more of a dog than I ever imagined. And you look so straight laced and proper too…"

Camcir shot him an irritated look and said "Why is it whenever you get bored, it becomes open season on me?" He took a sip of wine from his glass and then continued. "And you know damn well there is just the one. Like I'd have time for more the way you drag me from pillar to post."

Boromir laughed and said "Ah, but traveling around means you can have more of them – a girl in every town. Really Camcir, I'm doing you quite the favor. If you were around more often, she'd only get bored with you. This way she's always glad to see you and you reap the benefits. You should be thanking me" he said with a smirk.

Camcir just looked at him witheringly and continued to sip his wine. When Boromir realized he was not getting any more from the man, he changed the topic. "Ok Camcir. Truce. How about we discuss the hunting prospects. There is apparently deer a-plenty just waiting for us to shoot them and even the fishing is prime. Which do you want to do first?"

Camcir looked across at Boromir and had to bite his tongue. They were not on leave and while Boromir seemed inclined to ignore that, he could not. The only hunting they should be focusing on was hunting a certain Fox but Boromir was determined to treat this assignment as quick and easy. But there was no getting through to him tonight and he resigned himself to a discussion on the finer points of deer hunting.

Faramir

After dinner was completed, the men occupied themselves with a variety of things. There was a small cluster of them huddled around a table placing wagers on the outcome of a game currently being played by Mablung and Damrod. The wagers were for various chores and Faramir could see that Damrod was currently the favorite for winning. He just smiled and shook his head. Whatever keeps them amused.

He looked around for Eomer and saw him in the corner playing chess with Beregond. Eomer's face was frowning as he studied the board in front of him and he touched several pieces before finally making his move. Beregond, on the other hand, looked completely relaxed. Eomer had only learned to play chess since coming to Gondor and he still occasionally made rash moves. It wasn't really in the blonde Rohirrim to be patient and crafty and the game was still a challenge for him. However, he had improved enormously and Beregond could not rest on his laurels anymore when he played him. He decided not to distract the players and made his way through the tunnels to where he had his bedroom. He walked over to his bed and picked up his book of elvish stories. He had very few possessions here at Henneth Annun but his books were the one thing he horded. They were a reminder of better days and he treasured each one. Opening the book he settled back on the bed, but found he couldn't bring himself to read.

His mind wandered back to other days spent pouring over books curled up in a chair by the window. Life had been so simple then. In those days he could never have imagined the life he was living now. Those days were happy and carefree and he had imagined that they would always be. He believed that the world was a good place and that everyone lived honorably. He shook his head, he had been so naïve back then.

Life had taught him that the world is not always a good place and there are those who are in power that have no honor at all. The strong preyed on the weak and many stood by and allowed it to happen. He was no longer a carefree boy but a man who had seen too much injustice to ever go back to what he once was. That boy died a long time ago. Now he was The Fox with all the burdens that came with that.

He sighed and put down the book. Sometimes he wished there was a way back. Sometimes he wished he could turn a blind eye to all that was happening. With each raid the risk became greater and with the passing of years came the increase to the price on his head. Denethor had sent more sheriffs to Ithilien in the hopes of catching him and the chance that some day there would be a slip that would lead them to him was not something that made it easy to sleep at night.

He knew that what he was doing was important. The people suffered and there was nowhere they could turn to for justice or relief. He could no more turn a blind eye to them than he could learn to fly but he wished there was another way. Because it wasn't just his life that was on the line anymore. He had others who followed him, who believed that he would keep them safe. Every decision he made now impacted so many and now had come this premonition of potential disaster. He was just going to have to be extra vigilant while they laid low. There was just too much at stake to make a mistake now…


	5. Chapter Five

Camcir and Boromir were riding with the men to one of the larger villages in Ithilien. This was because Camcir had finally worn down Boromir enough that he at least agreed to question a few people before heading off into the woods to find The Fox. Boromir was still sulking a little bit, but it was very hard to remain too angry on such a glorious day. He planned to ask a couple of peasants a few questions but he doubted that anything would come of it. If the peasants had any useful information, they would have used it by now to collect the reward.

They were about 20 minutes from the village when disaster struck. A rabbit shot across the road in front of them, spooking their horses. While Boromir was able to remain in the saddle, Camcir was not. He was thrown from his seat and landed with a sickening crack on his shoulder. Boromir got his horse under control and quickly dismounted to look at his best friend and Lieutenant.It was clear from the way Camcir was holding himself that something was wrong.

A quick examination revealed a broken collarbone and a sprained wrist. Calling one of his men, he ordered him to ride to the village and fetch a healer. He then helped Camcir out of the road and settled him down as comfortably as possible.

Camcir grimaced in pain and said, "I can't believe I was so poor a rider as to fall off because of a rabbit. You do realize this puts me out of commission for a while, don't you?"

Boromir nodded "Yes, that's pretty obvious, but not to worry. We'll arrange for you to have a nice, comfortable bed with a pretty farmer's daughter to take care of you. Really, I'm quite jealous. You'll be laying back, being waited on while the rest of us are slogging through the woods playing sheriff's men."

Camcir's expression soured some more. He realized that this injury would do more then just keep him out of the saddle. It was going to keep him apart from Boromir and that was a very bad thing indeed! Without him to keep Boromir in check, the man would probably go off with some ill thought-out plan that would only end in disaster. This Fox was a clever man and Camcir would hate to see Boromir get humiliated like the others who had tried to capture the wily outlaw. He had to find someway to convince Boromir to move him to the lodge. At least that way he could check Boromir's ideas before he implemented them.

"Boromir, I think I can handle riding back to the lodge. Really, it's bad enough that I can't actually patrol with you but I should at least be around to help you with the logistics."

Boromir looked at him like he had sprouted a second head. "Camcir, are you mad? The lodge is a good ten miles from here and most of the roads between here and there are terrible. Don't be daft, stay in the village and let me handle the mission." Boromir patted him comfortingly on the leg and then rose to speak to the men about the change in plans.

Camcir looked at Boromir desperately and tried another tack. "What if we got a cart and transported me that way? That would be less jarring than riding." He looked at Boromir beseechingly.

Boromir was touched by Camcir's loyalty, but there was no way he was going to put him through that kind of pain. He was more than capable of handling this simple mission. "Camcir, enough already. This wasn't your fault. Accidents happen, especially to soldiers. Consider yourself out of commission and off-duty until you heal. I don't want to hear any more about it." And with that final statement, he turned away from Camcir and walked over to where the men were clustered. He began to fill them in on what had happened and how they would be proceeding. Camcir just closed his eyes and a feeling of apprehension washed over him. This was not going to go well, he could just sense it.

Boromir sent the men on ahead to the village to round up people who had information on The Fox. While he wanted to see Camcir comfortably settled, he didn't want to lose any more time thannecessary going after The Fox. This man was proving to be a real nuisance and he was determined to see him in chains as soon as possible.

When the healer arrived, Boromir practically pounced on him. As soon as the man dismounted from his horse, he dragged him over to where Camcir sat. The healer examined the man's injuries and came to the same conclusion they had. Camcir's collarbone was broken and his wrist sprained. Along with that he had a number of painful bruises and abrasions that would add to his discomfort. The doctor bound Camcir's wrist and then rigged a sling to ease the pain of the broken collarbone. While he was finishing up, a small pony cart arrived to transport the injured man to the village. Boromir saw Camcir settled as comfortably as possible in the cart, and then rode ahead to see to arranging for his stay in the village. He wanted Camcir to be taken immediately to bed upon his arrival.

Once he arrived he saw that his men had a handful of peasants rounded up to speak to him. He rode up to the group and dismounted in front of them, allowing one of his men to take his horse. He looked at the peasants and was rather unimpressed. They seemed rather dull and he doubted that anything they had to tell him was going to be of any use. Still, he had given Camcir his word that he would ask and ask he would. Besides, he needed to make arrangements for Camcir to be taken care of until he was back on his feet.

Walking up to one of the older men, he said, "Do you know who I am?" The peasant bowed his head and said, "Yes, you are Lord Boromir, Captain-General of Gondor" The man twisted a handkerchief in his hands and didn't meet Boromir's eyes.

Boromir rolled his eyes at the man's behavior. For Valar's sake, he just wanted to get some information and get out of here. This shouldn't be that difficult. Taking a deep breath, he tried again. "Do you know why I am here? I am seeking information about the man known as The Fox. What can you tell me about him?"

The man continued to twist the handkerchief and finally said "I really don't know much. Just that he makes his home somewhere in the woods of Ithilien and that he don't much like the Steward's men".

Boromir grunted. This he already knew. "Anything else you can tell me about him? Where he might have his hideout? Anyone he might have contact with? When the man didn't answer, he looked around at the others. "What about the rest of you. What can you tell me?" The silence held, as no one seemed to have any answers to give. Boromir threw up his hands in frustration. "Are you trying to say that this man has been robbing you for years now and you have no idea where to find him?"

A young boy who was standing near his mother piped up. "He hasn't been robbing us. The Fox is a good man and he only takes from those who deserve it." His mother hastily shushed him but it was too late. The boy now had Boromir's full attention.

"Those who deserve it? And who is The Fox to decide who is deserving? He is just a common bandit and when I find him, I'm going to see that he is brought before the Steward in chains to be sentenced for his crimes" Boromir glared around at the peasants one last time and then turned to his men. "Prepare to ride out. We're wasting our time here." His men nodded and went to reclaim their horses. Boromir turned back to the peasants and said "My Lieutenant has been injured and is being brought here to recover. I need someone to take care of him. Who here has the largest farm?"

A peasant who was dressed somberly but in good clothes stepped forward. "I do my lord. It would be an honor to take your man in. My wife has some skill in herb lore and will be able to see to his recovery."

Boromir looked dismissingly at the man and said, "You will have the healer tend to him. Is that understood? My Lieutenant is to have the best of everything. " And with that he took a small purse out and threw it mockingly at the man. "This is to see that it happens"

The man's lips tightened for a moment in anger but he kept himself under control and merely bowed and said, "Yes my lord, I will see it done". Seeing the man intended to comply, Boromir turned his back on him and went over to where one of his men held his horse. He mounted and said, "Let's move out. We'll scout the woods to the west of here and see what we can find." He kicked his horse into a trot and led his men out of the village without a backwards glance.

After several hours of fruitless searching, Boromir decided to call it a day. He sent his men back to the village that they were quartered at and set across the countryside. The roads of Ithilien were winding and long and Boromir was determined to reach the lodge before dark.

This part of Ithilien was hilly and the trees were not so tightly pressed together. It was easy to make a path between them that was far straighter than the road he would have taken. And he was glad to have the solitude, as today had been a day of many frustrations. First Camcir's accident and then the uncooperative peasants. Really, he was doing this for their own good and they acted like he was the enemy. And that boy! Did he really believe that The Fox was acting with honor? The Fox was a criminal and that he had somehow managed to convince ignorant peasants that he was the good guy didn't change the facts. Boromir was going to see that the record was set straight by capturing him and making him stand trial for his crimes.

Because Boromir was dreaming of presenting the broken and chained Fox in the Great Hall of the Citadel, he failed to sense the men that were waiting in ambush in one of the thicker groves of trees.

Damrod had spotted the rider a while ago and had informed the other members of the patrol. Word had come to them that the Captain-General was coming to Ithilien with a troop of soldiers and it was clear from his garb and the color of his hair that this was the man himself. They had discussed it among themselves and decided that Boromir, Heir to the Steward of Gondor, was a prize indeed and this was just too good an opportunity to pass up. When again would they find the man without a guard? That they had never taken a captive before was ignored in theheat of the moment. They had made their plan and took up their positions.

Boromir did not know of his danger until his horse was shot out from under him. He tried to kick free from the saddle but his foot caught for a moment and caused him to landed badly. With his breath knocked out of him, he was unable to react fast enough to prevent himself from being surrounded on three sides.

Damrod stopped out of sword range and said, "We've got archers trained on you. Try to run or fight and we'll cut you down. Drop your sword." When Boromir did not comply he barked again "Drop it or I will give the order to fire"

Boromir glared at the masked figure and tried to look for any avenue of escape. But the fact of the matter was that the trap had been a good one and there was no way out of it. He dropped his sword but continued to glare in defiance.

Damrod signaled to one the men encircling Boromir and the man approached warily. He had rope in his hand and it was clear that he intended to bind Boromir's hands. Boromir debated about trying to fight once the man got close enough to serve as a shield but decided that he was too outnumbered for the plan to succeed. He allowed the man to bind his hands but then began to struggle when he tried to blindfold his eyes.

Damrod spoke again. "Continue to struggle and we'll have to beat you. Do not think that I won't strike you just because you are the Steward's son." Boromir stiffened. _So they know who I am. That makes things much more dangerous. _

Boromir ceased struggling and let them blindfold him. If he wanted any hope of escaping, he had to remain uninjured. Still, he was not someone to surrender completely. "So, you will take me for hostage and ask for a ransom from my father, the Steward. I knew you were just common criminal scum," he said with a sneer.

Damrod stiffened angrily. "You know nothing of us yet you call us scum. You live in your white tower with your servants and your luxuries and know nothing of what the rest of us suffer."

Boromir continued to sneer. "You steal from others. I care nothing for you other than to see you all hang for what you have done. You and your Fox."

Damrod snarled and said, "Be quiet or I will gag you as well." He signaled to the rest of the men and said "Lets get him back to the Haven. I think The Fox will be very well pleased with what we're bringing him." He grabbed the lead they had tied to Boromir's hands and began to drag him along. _Yes, Faramir will be most pleased with today's prize. _

**_Author's Note: I had been posting this story to another site which is why I was able to put up 5 chapters all at once. Going forward, this is going to get updated about once a week (depending on the workload my poor beta has on her plate). I hope you stick with it - Seadragon_**


	6. Chapter Sixa

Faramir was in the last part of his watch when the world spun dizzily for a moment. When his vision cleared, he was left with the definite feeling that something had occurred. There were no images to tell him what had transpired, only the feeling of certainty that his world had taken a drastic shift.

He tried to relax and allow more to materialize, but there was nothing else. He debated about the wisdom of deserting his post and decided that the short time would be acceptable in light of his current fears. Moving swiftly he headed back up the secret path to the caves. Once there he called the remaining men to him.

"I have sensed something has happened but have no more than that. But with a patrol still out there, I'm willing to gamble that it has something to do with them. I'll need one of you to stay here and take my place at watch. The rest of you will join me as we head out to find them. We'll need to use caution, as it's possible that they are in some kind of trouble or are being followed. If they are captured, I'll assess the situation and come up with some kind of plan. If they are being followed then we'll deal with their hunters as we always have. But it's important that we stay out of sight until we find them and ascertain the circumstances."

Beregond said "I'll stay here and keep watch with Mardil. Be sure to signal if all is clear before coming up the path. Otherwise we'll fire the trenches." Grabbing his gear, he swiftly made his way out of the cave. Faramir watched him leave and then said "Alright, the rest of you grab your gear and come with me. Damrod was leading the patrol towards the south so we'll need to cut across country to catch them."

The men quickly and quietly grabbed their gear and formed up. They knew this was serious and that they would need to act quickly to save the men on patrol. As soon as Faramir saw they were ready, he headed out. He led them quickly down the path and into the forest. This part of Ithilien had few paths, but Faramir knew every inch of it and was able to lead them through the woods swiftly and surely. His men followed silently, moving like shadows through the trees. An air of grim determination hung over them. It had been a long time since the sheriffs had managed to track one of their patrols and they all knew the stakes had been raised since then.

Faramir led them on trying to keep himself calm and clear headed. Nothing would be gained by letting fear take him. His premonition had told him nothing of use in planning for what was to come, so he must wait until he found the patrol to decide his next step. But he still could not help but worry for the men who had trusted him to keep them safe. He was determined that no matter what he found, he would find a way to rescue his men.

The Patrol

Damrod was leading their prisoner along hidden trails. While it would take a while for people to realize that Boromir was missing, they still needed to move quickly and leave no trail. Damrod was deliberately taking them along paths that would be far away from where Boromir's soldiers would start their search. By crisscrossing rivers and walking over stony patches, Damrod was ensuring that they would not be followed.

Meanwhile, Boromir was cursing roundly as he was dragged along blindfolded. The loss of sight was making walking difficult and it also meant that he had no chance of finding his way back should he manage to escape. He cursed himself for being so careless and allowing himself to get captured so easily. Camcir had tried to warn him and he had been too stubborn to listen. Now he was paying the price.

He stumbled again and felt his already sore ankle twist. If they kept going much longer it was going to give out entirely. He had already done it damage when he caught it in the stirrup trying to kick free of his horse and this forced march was only making it worse. But he would be damned if he'd say anything to these brigands.

Damrod breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that they had reached the path to Henneth Annun. He had been worried that they would not get far enough to avoid Boromir's men, but now that they were here, he knew that they'd never have a chance of finding them. He halted for a moment and double checked that Boromir's blindfold had not slipped in anyway. Even their allies were not allowed to see the path that lead to Henneth Annun. Once sure that Boromir remained sightless, he grabbed the lead and began the final journey to the Haven. He couldn't wait to see Faramir's face when he showed him their prize.

Faramir

Faramir had finally come across the trail of the patrol and was confused. He picked up their trail in a part of Ithilien that they should not have been in. Their patrol didn't normally come this way as no sheriff would ever venture so far off the trails. It looked as though Damrod was trying to escape pursuers but Faramir could see no sign of anyone following them. There also seemed to be some strange tracks as if someone was not moving easily – could one of the men be injured?

Faramir frowned as he led his men along Damrod's trail. The strangeness of the situation was only feeding his feelings of uncertainty. He was positive now that his premonition was about what had happened on this patrol and the continuing lack of details was making him crazy. He pushed his men just a little faster as he attempted to catch the patrol. But they were a good hour behind and with the light fading, they could only go so fast without risking losing the trail entirely.

Henneth Annun

Damrod knew he was approaching within range of the sentries and whistled to signal the returning of the patrol. He was surprised when the signal to "hold there" was returned. He looked around at the rest of the men but each one shrugged and looked as puzzled as the rest. When Beregond came into view, Damrod practically pounced on him. "What's going on? Has something happened?"

Beregond said "I was about to ask that of you. The Captain has the men out looking for…" he trailed off when he saw Boromir. Beregond's expression was incredulous. "Is that who I think it is?" He looked at Damrod in shock.

Damrod grinned and said "Yep. I've brought back a prize for The Fox. The Steward's son and Captain-General of Gondor. He'll fetch us a pretty penny he will."

Beregond's expression had turned worried during Damrod's speech. "I don't know about this. This may not be the best idea. He comes with an awful lot of trouble."

Damrod's good cheer dampened a bit at Beregond's less than enthusiastic response. "Well, I guess we'll just have to see what The Fox has to say about it. In the meantime, let's get him to the hideout. No point in hanging around out here."

Beregond nodded glumly. "I guess it's done now. We'll just have to see what the Captain decides to do with him." He turned and melted back into the trees. Damrod watched him go and then tugging on the lead said "Come on Nobleman. I've had just about enough of dragging you around."

Boromir snarled "Well, it hasn't been the highlight of my life to be dragged about by you either. Believe me, you will pay for this later. That you can count on" But he stumbled on after them, secretly relieved that they were almost to their destination. His ankle was killing him and he was exhausted from the walking.

Faramir

Faramir neared the path to Henneth Annun and heaved a sigh of relief. Whatever had spooked Damrod; it had neither followed the patrol home nor managed to catch them. He picked up the pace, since they no longer needed to follow the trail, and made straight for Henneth Annun. It was practically dark and he wanted nothing more then a hot meal and to find out what the hell had happened.

They reached the sentry point and Faramir signaled their arrival. He was relieved when the all's clear was sounded. It was the final confirmation that the patrol was safe and sound. He and the rest of the men hurried up the trail, eager to find out just what had gone on out there.

Faramir entered the cave and Damrod immediately got up and came to him. Faramir smiled in relief when he saw that he was unharmed. Giving the man a swift hug, he said "I'm glad to see you are well. What happened out there? Was anyone hurt?"

Damrod had been fretting about Faramir's reaction since he spoke to Beregond and now that he was face to face with Faramir, he began to think that maybe he had done the wrong thing after all. He looked away from Faramir's concerned eyes and said "No, no one got hurt and we weren't followed."

Faramir looked enormously relieved, but then became puzzled. "But if no one was hurt and you weren't being followed, then why the circuitous route to get back to base? What made you leave the patrol area?"

Damrod shifted uneasily, looking very much like a little boy who had been caught out by the school master. Faramir, seeing this, felt his sense of unease grow. "Damrod – why did you leave the patrol area?"

Damrod squirmed some more and finally blurted out "I'm sorry Faramir but it seemed like such a perfect opportunity at the time. I mean you never see him without a guard so it just seemed like fate…" he trailed off miserably as he hung his head in shame.

The feeling of impending doom crashed over Faramir again. For a moment he couldn't find his voice and when he did, it came out far weaker than he would have liked. "You never find WHO without guard? Damrod, what have you done?"

Damrod swallowed hard and said "Perhaps it would be better if I showed you." He turned and led Faramir through the caves to one of the areas that they used for storage. He stopped before a curtained off area and said "You should probably put your mask back on"

Faramir looked hard at Damrod and then pulled his mask back into place. He then pulled the curtain aside and stepped in. He was barely three paces in when he stopped dead in his tracks. Because there – if he wasn't mistaken – was Lord Boromir, Captain General of Gondor. He turned and looked at the hapless Damrod who had followed him in and said "Have you lost your mind?"

Damrod dropped his head in shame and said "I'm sorry. Like I said, at the time it seemed like the perfect opportunity" He fidgeted unhappily knowing that he had let Faramir down.

Boromir watched all of this with great interest and amusement. He said mockingly "What's the matter Fox? Not feeling so confident when you are dealing with a real solider rather than some half pay sheriff? "

Faramir looked down on Boromir in aggravation. For days, the feeling that something was going to go wrong had plagued him, and today had just capped his mood. And now this man had the nerve to mock him? "I would think that a man who has no weapons, no allies and no idea of the lay of the land would show a bit more caution." His eyes never once left Boromir.

Boromir sneered, "Spoken like a man who hides behind a mask. There's no honor in what you do. You hide in the woods and attack your betters. You are nothing but cutthroats and thieves. I have no fear of you."

Faramir felt his temper flare and had to take a deep breath to keep from exploding. It had been too long a day to be dealing with this kind of aggravation. He took a several steps forward until he was right in front of the cot Boromir sat on. He leaned down so he was eye to eye with Boromir. In a cold, clipped voice he said, "Listen to me Boromir of Gondor. You see yourself as better then me but let me remind you that you are alone here. I hold your fate in my hands and right now, I'm not feeling too kindly disposed towards you. Do not test my patience any further. " Faramir straightened up and turned to walk away.

Boromir felt his confidence slip in the face of The Fox's chilling speech. There was something in The Fox's eyes that spoke of strength and determination and Boromir began to think that maybe The Fox was not the craven weakling he had thought him to be. Still, he had never backed down from a challenge and he was not about to start now.

"So you turn tail and run. Appropriate behavior for one known as The Fox. A fox is merely a scavenger who hides in holes and you are no different." Boromir said scornfully.

Faramir stiffened and then turned around again. His temper had flared red-hot and his hands balled into fists that ached to connect with Boromir's mocking mouth. He glared angrily at Boromir and snarled "You think you are superior because your father is Steward of Gondor? Let me tell you, you are nothing. You are Captain-General because your father made you so. You dare speak to ME of honor when you show none of your own? Your soldiers bully those who are weaker than them and you do nothing to stop it. You should be protecting the poor and instead you sneer at them and treat them badly. A man in your position should lead by example but you have allowed them to believe that it is right to take from those who cannot defend themselves. But then, I shouldn't be surprised since your father has always felt that there is nothing he cannot take with impunity." Faramir looked at Boromir with complete dismissal and then turned and walked from the room.

**_Author's Note: Well, it has taken a while to get here so I hope you have found the journey worthwhile. There is still a ways to go before this story is complete so I hope you continue to follow it - Seadragon_**

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	7. Chapter Sixb

**_This chapter got delayed because I had to edit the ending to bring it in under an R rating. The more explict version is posted elsewhere for those of you who are interested._**

Boromir

Boromir watched as The Fox left the room. He was furious that the man thought he could lecture HIM on what was behavior due his station. What did The Fox know about being a nobleman? He lived in his cave in the woods and robbed people. He knew nothing of the pressures of being in command.

Yet even as he thought these things, he remembered the precision in which The Fox's men had sprung their trap. He also remembered Camcir's reports on the efficiency in which The Fox managed to both successfully ambush his targets and cleanly evade capture. This spoke of a man who had to know a thing or two about leading men. Boromir squirmed a little on his cot and tried to ease the pressure of the ropes that bound him.

Fine, so the man had some skill in leading. He still led a group of bandits. He was nothing more than a criminal and had no place telling Boromir the meaning of honor. What rubbish he spouted about protecting the poor. He protected the poor every day he picked up his sword. And how dare he say he was only Captain-General because his father had made him? Boromir had worked hard over the years to earn the position and his men followed him because he knew what he was doing. They trusted him to lead them well and he took that trust very seriously. The Fox knew nothing about him and his attempts to break his confidence only showed just how weak a hand The Fox really had. Boromir smiled grimly to himself and thought, "I will show The Fox just who is nothing around here…"

Faramir

Faramir stormed out the storage area in a rage. Boromir was, without a doubt, the most arrogant man Faramir had ever encountered. _A fox is merely a scavenger who hides in holes and you are no different…_ Does he think I like living like this? I would give much to be able to live like a normal person with a home and stability. But it is thanks to men like him that I am forced to live as outlaw.

Faramir emerged into the main cavern that the men used as a gathering place and addressed his men. "As you all now know, we have a prisoner in our midst. While this was never something I intended, we will deal with the situation as it is. A guard is to be placed in the tunnel leading to where he is. He is to be kept tied unless he is eating and no one is to go in there without hood and mask. Is this all clearly understood?"

His men all nodded. They were surprised by the short tone that Faramir used. They had never seen Faramir let his temper get the better of him, but it was clear that Lord Boromir had found a way under his skin. They vowed to themselves that they would not let Lord Boromir upset Faramir further.

Faramir, seeing the agreement, turned on his heel and made for his quarters. He knew he was in no mood to deal gently with anyone and he did not want to take his anger out on his men, who had done nothing to deserve it. He paced and tried to bring himself back under control. But every time he came close, he remembered something that Boromir said or the look of contempt on his face and it would set him off all over again.

Eomer pulled the curtain to one side and entered without announcing himself. Five years as Faramir's friend had given him certain privileges. He watched his friend as he paced and muttered to himself and then decided that it was time to do something to shake him out of his current mood.

"You know, they say talking to yourself is the first sign that you are going mad." Eomer commented, leaning negligently against the wall. Faramir spun at the sound of his voice and glared at his friend.

"If you've come here to lecture me about my temper, don't. I'm in no mood for it right now. " He began pacing angrily again, glaring at the sparse furnishings as if they were to blame for his current state.

Eomer realized that this was no simple case of annoyance he was witnessing, but a full blown fit of temper and humor was not going pull Faramir out of it. Really there was only one thing to do.

Pushing away from the wall, he walked forward until he could snag Faramir on one of his paces across the room. Faramir swung to snarl at him but Eomer cut him off. "No. No more talking and no more pacing. You are way too tense and you need to relax. And I'm going to see that you do." With that he spun Faramir around and pushed him so that he had to catch himself on the desk. Eomer came up behind him and trapped him so that Faramir could not escape.

Faramir huffed and said "Eomer, just let me be, will you?" Eomer just chuckled and said, "What kind of friend would I be if I did that?" He proceeded to knead Faramir's shoulders, which were tight with suppressed anger.

Despite his anger, Faramir found himself responding to Eomer's attentions. He had felt like he had been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and Eomer's ministration slowly soothed that away.

As Eomer felt Faramir relax into his touch he smiled. Time to move on to Phase Two. Without ever stopping the motion of his hands, he leaned forward and slowly began to nuzzle the sensitive spot behind Faramir's ear. He smiled to himself when he heard a small moan escape Faramir.

"Eomer, what do you think you are doing?" said Faramir though he didn't make any attempt to move away. Eomer just chuckled and seductively breathed in his ear "I'm trying to help you relax" He then nibbled Faramir's ear while his fingers caressed his throat. Faramir moaned again and dropped his head back to give Eomer greater access.

Eomer took the unspoken invitation and began to trail kisses and nips across Faramir's neck. His hands trailed down to stroke across Faramir's chest fanning the spark into a flame.

Faramir could feel desire race through him and he couldn't stop himself from arching back into Eomer. It had been a long time since they had shared a bed and Faramir's body was aching for the touch of another's hand. He could feel Eomer's cock hard against him and he rubbed back against it, causing a groan to come from Eomer. His own shaft had grown hard as well and his hips moved restlessly as the fabric of his breeches strained across it. He was aching with the need for release and his moans and sighs were constant now.

Eomer could feel Faramir's surrender and turned him around so that they were face to face. He buried one hand deep in Faramir's hair and drew him forward into a deep passionate kiss. Faramir wrapped his arms around Eomer's waist and drew him in tight, the need to touch this man overwhelming him.

When the need to breath forced them to break the kiss, both were panting with the desire raging through them. Faramir looked at the blonde and said, "I need you. It's been far too long. I can't wait anymore."

Eomer looked at Faramir, his eyes dark with lust and said, "Then don't. Take me hard and fast and do it now!" Faramir needed no further urging. The coupling was hard and fierce and exactly what he needed. He collapsed down onto Eomer's back and the two of them lay panting across his desk.

It was several minutes before Faramir recovered enough to straighten up. He gently kissed Eomer's neck and slowly bent to pull up his breeches. Eomer stood up himself and turned so that he leaned back against the desk. When Faramir straightened back up, he pulled him forward for a kiss.

"Feeling better?" he said with a smirk. Faramir just chuckled and said "Yes, I am much improved. Now I remember why we are such good friends"

Eomer laughed as well and said "Good. In that case, come on out and get something to eat." He bent down and pulled up his own breeches and then sauntered out of the room. Faramir just shook his head smiling and followed him out. Eomer always did know when Faramir just needed a good hard fuck.


	8. Chapter Seven

**_This one has been on serious hiatus mostly because of laziness. But this has been put back in the writing schedule so there should be semi-regular updates again._**

When Faramir rejoined his men, he saw the way they all attempted to pretend that they hadn't noticed him come in. He smiled to himself at this show of forgiveness. Even though he had been short with them, they had understood and were showing him that all was forgiven and forgotten. However, he wasn't going to let it stand at that.

He cleared his throat to get their attention and his smile grew larger as he watched the men "suddenly" notice his arrival among them. They all gave him innocent looks as if they had no idea what he was going to talk to them about. He felt a surge of affection for these men who had come through so much with him. He was lucky indeed to have these men with him.

"I want to apologize for my tone earlier. I let the uncertainty of the last couple of days catch up to me and I took it out on you. Please forgive me. It was inexcusable." He made eye contact with each man as he spoke, making sure that Damrod especially saw his contrition.

The men all protested with Beregond being the first to pipe up. "Now Captain, you hardly took anything out on us. You had a nasty surprise sprung on you, what with finding the Captain-General a prisoner here. And we all know how those visions of yours can be hard to deal with. You've got nothing to apologize for." The other men were quick to add their agreement to this.

Faramir smiled and said "You are all too forgiving, but I am grateful for it none the less. I will confess, I am not yet sure how to handle our "guest". There are a lot of risks involved in trading for a ransom and I'm not sure the money will outweigh the costs. As of now, we have public sympathy on our side because we only rob those who can afford it. To take a hostage, especially one who is as popular as Boromir of Gondor, may sway support away from us at a time when we are finally gaining some ground. I'm inclined to think that the best possible thing would be to let him go."

Damrod groaned at that and said "So we went through all of this for nothing?" Mablung patted him sympathetically on the back and said "It was a well done capture. Not everyone could have taken the Captain-General of Gondor"

Faramir smiled at the show of support. It had taken a lot of time and effort to create a sense of teamwork between these men and now it was paying off. It was clear that everyone was rallying around Damrod to make him feel better. Faramir decided it was time to add his bit.

"Not entirely for nothing. We have taken the Captain-General of Gondor. Even if we don't hold him for ransom, the fact remains that we were able to take him. Us, the Outlaw Band of Ithilien. It shows that none are safe from us… should we chose to take them. And that is how I plan to play this. That we choose to let him go as a warning to others. Next time, of course, we will not be so lenient. Plus, let us not forget about the embarrassment factor. The pride of Gondor's army has been taken. This will cost Denethor a lot of respect with his noblemen and that can be used to our advantage. No, Damrod, it has not been for nothing." He put his hand on Damrod's shoulder and smiled down at him. Damrod smiled back in return and the last bit of tension drained from his body.

Seeing Damrod finally let go of the last of his guilt, Faramir stepped away and said "So what is there to eat? I'm starving." He plunked himself down on a bench and made himself comfortable.

Pippin jumped up from the small stool he had been sitting on and said "There's some stew still left in the pot and I think we've got some cheese that managed to survive this scavenging horde." There were snorts and sounds of protest from the rest of the room and Faramir chuckled to himself. It never ceased to amaze him that little Pippin could put away far more food than any one of them given the opportunity.

Soon a bowl of stew, a piece of bread and the aforementioned cheese was placed in front of him. Having made peace with his men, he found his appetite quite healthy indeed. He ate steadily only stopping to smile briefly when Pippin clambered up on the bench next to him. He wasn't surprised that the hobbit had come to join him. Now that Faramir was in an approachable mood, Pippin likely wanted to make sure that there was nothing else he needed. Like Eómer, Pippin wasn't one to just leave Faramir alone when something was troubling him. In fact, Eómerand Pippin had been known to gang up on him, each one "attacking" in turn until Faramir opened up and told them what was wrong. No doubt, Pippin knew that Eómer had "softened" him up and now he was going to make sure all was well again.

The moment he finished the last morsel of food, Pippin turned to him with a winning smile and said "Well, it's good to see you back to your usual fine fettle. Not that you were all that bad. Believe me, your little snit fits are scarce worth mentioning. Not like some I've known." A momentary shadow crossed his face and Faramir knew he was remembering times from when he was a slave in Lossarnach. But like a cloud passing over the sun, it was swiftly gone and Pippin was his usual cheery self. "So, I heard what you said about our guest. When do we set him free?"

Faramir looked at Pippin in surprise. While the hobbit was a valuable member of the band and did his share of patrols and raids, he didn't usually show much interest in the strategy of it all. He looked thoughtfully at Pippin and said "Well, we can't let him go right away. Between our recent raid of the Rohan shipment and the troop of soldiers already in Ithilien, it would be madness to venture out with him right now. We'll have to hold him until things settle down a bit and then take him somewhere far from here and release him. It's not the most ideal situation but there's not much to be done for it."

Eómer, who had been eavesdropping on the conversation, sat down on the other side of Faramir. "So we're stuck with the bastard until the heat dies down. Damn it! That's going to be bloody inconvenient. We are not exactly set up for prisoners."

Faramir grimaced and said, "I'm well aware of that, which is why I've always avoided the whole hostage thing. But we've got one now so we are just going to have to make it work."

Pippin cocked his head and said, "Well, you know you can count on me to do my part. Anything to give Denethor a taste of his own medicine is good in my book. Let him see how it feels to know your child is out there somewhere and have to worry if he's alright."

Both men looked at Pippin in surprise. This was an uncommonly bitter statement coming from the normally cheerful hobbit. Still, Pippin had as much reason as any of them to want to strike back at Denethor so they could hardly fault him.

Faramir nodded and said, "I hadn't really thought about that, but you are right. Maybe he will come to understand the pain of what he has done so easily to others." He patted Pippin on the shoulder and the hobbit just nodded and looked down at the table.

Eómer frowned and said, "I wouldn't hold my breath waiting for The Crow to see the error of his ways. He doesn't look at his son and heir in the same light as other people's children. And with the sheer arrogance of his heir, I doubt Boromir of Gondor will learn that lesson either." He picked up the mug he had been drinking from and drained it.

Faramir shrugged and said, "I doubt a strong blow to the head would get through to Boromir of Gondor. Never have I met a more proud, arrogant man. He has little use for any of us and would gladly see us hung from the nearest tree."

Pippin frowned slightly and said "Don't think I've ever seen you take such a dislike to someone before. Rather surprising, really, since you never let anyone get under your skin. One of your more aggravating traits really." A grin split Pippin's face at the last bit and it lifted the mood of the table a bit.

Faramir just chuckled and said "And who are you to talk when everyone knows you to be unrelentingly cheerful, even when we are forced to stay within doors for days? You are even in good spirits first thing in the morning."

Pippin and Eómer joined in the laughter. "Can I help it that hobbits are naturally cheery folk? You should be grateful to have me about since the lot of you can turn as dour as a spinster at a wedding." Pippin gave Faramir a mock-innocent look that quickly cracked as Faramir only laughed harder. Pippin grinned happily knowing that he had gotten Faramir past the remainder of his anger.

Thinking about the man who had sparked all of this, Pippin became quite curious. What was this Boromir of Gondor really like? That he had succeeded in upsetting Faramir was no small thing. Years of hardship had taught Faramir the value of keeping his emotions under control and even encounters with some of the worse bullies who worked for Denethor had never seen Faramir lose his temper. Yet one short interaction and Faramir was angry enough to take off heads. Eómer hadn't needed to use sex with Faramir in a long time – not that the blonde complained about it. Pippin smirked to himself and listened with half an ear to Faramir and Eómer make slighting comments about each other's habits.

Pippin looked towards the tunnel that would lead to their reluctant guest. He thought about what Damrod had told him of the encounter and how Boromir had taunted Faramir about lack of honor and courage. While this was a common enough assumption made by the sheriffs who pursued them, as a soldier, Boromir should have been able to recognize the quality of organization and leadership Faramir provided. In fact, in many ways, he and Boromir were similar. Equals almost. Were they on the same sides, they would likely be shield brothers. But they were not on the same side and so Boromir would now prove to be a thorn in Faramir's side and that wasn't something Pippin could allow.

Pippin's loyalty to Faramir was unquestionable. Faramir had saved him from being beaten to death and had offered to figure out a way to get him back to the Shire. Pippin had refused, knowing that the outlaw could not afford to lose men to such a long and perilous journey. Especially one that would likely end with him being sent back to Gondor as a runaway. He instead pledged himself to help in any way he could. At first it was mostly doing the cooking and other domestic chores but in time he learned how to use a sword and demonstrated his hobbit ability to move silently and swiftly though the woods and fields. He was now considered a valuable scout and a full member of the team. But he never forgot that it was Faramir that insisted that he be given his chance. He was determined to repay the man for giving him the way to strike back at those who had harmed him. Who had taken his love from him.

He looked thoughtfully at the tunnel and made his decision.


	9. Chapter Eight

**_Warning that this chapter talks about abuse and violence. Nothing graphic but its there and I believe in giving fair warning._**

Pippin stopped to grab his cloak and mask. Faramir's orders had been specific. No one goes in without being disguised. He then grabbed some food and arranged it on a tray. He knew the guard wouldn't stop him, since everyone was use to the fact that Pippin never let anyone go hungry. When he reached the area where the prisoner was held, he took a deep breath and prepared himself for what he must do next. When ready, he pushed his way past the curtain and into the room.

Boromir was lying rather uncomfortably on the cot. He had been tied up for hours now and his shoulders ached from the strain. He looked up when he saw the curtain move and was surprised to see the small figure of a hobbit walk into the room. He was even more surprised to realize he was bringing him food. He had begun to think that the outlaws intended to starve him as a means of breaking him and so the arrival of food – so soon after the fight with their leader – was unexpected.

Pippin set the tray down out of reach of Boromir and stood looking at him. Because of the cloak and hood, all that could be seen was the green of his eyes. He looked the somewhat bedraggled soldier up and down and saw the discomfort the man was trying to hide. He weighed his options and finally said "There is a guard not five feet from here. Beyond him is a whole host of men, none of whom like you in the slightest. Now, knowing all of this, I suggest that you show some intelligence and give me your word that you will behave yourself while I'm here. If you do, I'll untie you and let you feed yourself. Refuse and I'll have the guard come and hold you down while I feed you like a child. Which will it be?"

Boromir glared at the hobbit defiantly, but knew that what the hobbit said was true. There was no way he could escape, even if he were to overpower the hobbit. His ankle would never take his weight and his arms and shoulders were far too stiff from being tied up. He grudgingly nodded and said "I give you my word that I won't try to harm you while you are here. Now untie me. I can barely feel my hands."

Pippin stared at him a bit longer and said "Not the most gracious of concessions but then I shouldn't expect any better from you. You are far too used to being admired and adored aren't you?" He untied Boromir's hands and stepped back.

Boromir glared at the hobbit while he rubbed the circulation back into his hands and said "And why shouldn't I be admired? I'm the Captain-General of Gondor. That entitles me to respect and admiration. Not that I could expect someone like you to understand." He looked away from Pippin in dismissal.

Pippin felt his temper stir at the arrogant dismissal. Since being forced to come to Gondor, he had endured behavior ranging from rudeness to abuse and all because he was a "rat from the Shire." Until he met Faramir, he had believed that all men were brutes and bullies who saw hobbits as lesser creatures to be used as they saw fit. This Boromir was even worse because he didn't even bother to see any value in Pippin. Even his former masters saw the value of the work they could force from Pippin.

Pippin squared his shoulders and moved a pace closer to Boromir. "Someone like me. What do you know of someone like me? Tell me Boromir, what do you know?" His tone was fierce enough to get Boromir's attention and Pippin stared into Boromir's eyes in challenge.

Boromir was surprised by the aggressive behavior of this little hobbit. While he had little contact with hobbits, the ones he had seen around the Citadel were quiet and submissive. But this one looked ready to attack.

Boromir shifted on the cot and said "You and your fellow hobbits are here as hostages to insure the cooperation of the Shire. By having you here, your people are prevented from attacking our territories in Hollin"

Pippin snorted angrily and said "Prevented from attacking your territories in Hollin? Since when has the Shire ever shown any indications of attacking anyone, let alone the territories of Hollin?" He moved so he was standing directly in front of Boromir. Anger bristled in his every line.

"My people have always been peaceful. Even when we heard about Gondor invading the lands of Hollin, we didn't think much about it. Wars and empires have no interest to the Hobbits of the Shire. We have no armies. We've never needed to. We are farmers and tradesmen. "

Pippin began to pace angrily as the dam burst on emotions that he had kept in check for far too long. "We are not even wealthy – least not in the kinds of things that men would deem valuable. Our wealth lies in our lands and in what they produce. We are not like you men who must take all that they can lay their hands on to feel they have some value on this earth. We live in peace and we allow others to live in peace as well. Or we did until your father the Steward sent soldiers to take what he wanted."

"We were never a threat. Even if you gathered ever hobbit in the Shire we could never have been a threat to Gondor. No, what we were was another source of wealth your father could claim. They told the elders of our ruling families that the children who were taken would be treated well. That we would be educated and raised as befitted a noble child of Gondor. That as long as they cooperated and sent us children along as ordered, that no harm would come to us or the Shire."

"But it was all lies! There was never any intention of treating us as citizens of Gondor. We were always destined to serve as unpaid slaves to the nobles of your lands. If we could have at least been servants, we would have some redress for wrongs done to us but as slaves, we have no choice but to take whatever is done to us. We are beaten, starved and even forced to serve as pleasure slaves at our master's whims. My former master once "gave" me to a guest who thought it amusing to see how much he could make me scream. When I tried to defend myself, I was taken outside and whipped until I could no longer stand. When I could walk again, I was forced to work in the fields until I dropped. It was there that the Fox found me. If he hadn't stopped the foreman from beating me, I would have died."

Pippin rounded on Boromir and leaned in close. He spit out "This is how Gondor is seeing that its borders remain safe. Tell me Boromir – do you sleep better at night?" He turned sharply and moved away to the far side of the room. He closed his eyes and tried to pull himself back under control.

Boromir looked at the shaking hobbit and felt nauseous. The hobbit was so small, so defenseless. No larger then a boy. But the things he described…

He had never given much thought about the Shire. He had not been a part of the company that had taken the Shire having been dealing with unrest in Rohan. He had always accepted the ruling that said the hostages were necessary to keep the hobbits from uprising. With all the trouble they had been having in Rohan, it had seemed plausible enough. And while the hobbits he had encountered in Gondor had seemed harmless enough, he had dismissed it as having been trained well since they arrived.

But now looking at this small hobbit, he realized that the taking of hostages was nothing more then an excuse to make slaves of people who no one would object to. They weren't men so therefore it was acceptable. They had could be neglected and brutalized and it was barely even noticed. Who looked at the hobbits who served in the noble houses? They were always so quiet, so unobtrusive. And now he knew why. To draw attention to themselves was to bring pain and suffering down on them. When he thought about what this young hobbit had suffered, it made him ill. He was a defender of his people – how could he have missed the suffering of ones so small? They paid with their lives for his father's greed and he had turned a blind eye to it because he was tired of dealing with his father's constant demands. He groaned in guilt as the depths of his culpability sunk in.

His groan drew Pippin's attention back from the dark place it had traveled. He turned and looked at Boromir and saw the shame and guilt that filled his face. So, perhaps Boromir wasn't so hardened to things as he seemed. That was a curious thing. Pippin moved forward a few paces and said softly.

"I am here because one I love still remains a slave in Minas Tirith. I have not seen him in 3 years, but I know in my heart he still lives. I would do anything to find him, to bring him here where he can be safe. Tell me, Boromir, Captain-General of Gondor, is there one that you love? Can you understand what I suffer? Why I am here? Why I serve the Fox?" His eyes looked deep into Boromir's trying to see into the heart of someone he would have thought had no heart at all.

Boromir wanted to look away from those sharp green eyes. They felt like they were looking right through him and he knew that the hobbit could see his guilt and shame. He swallowed hard and forced himself to speak. "I… I did not know what the hobbits suffered. I thought only that you were servants. I never saw the abuse. I am sorry for what you have suffered."

Pippin continued to look deeply into Boromir. "And if you had?"

Boromir finally looked away. He could not bear to face that he had no clear answer for that. Had he known of individual incidents he would have likely stopped them but would he have defended the hobbits as a whole? Would he have gone to his father and demanded better for these little people who had no one to stand for them? The shame deepened as he realized that the answer was likely only if it would not cost him too much.

Pippin watched the emotions chase across Boromir's face and realized that this man had never truly faced the damage that his father inflicted on people. He lived with his soldiers and kept himself apart from it all and this allowed him to sleep at night. But now a crack had begun to form in that carefully crafted shield and Pippin was determined to widen it.

"Your father's greed has spread wider then just the Shire. We are here because someone must fight for those who cannot. You are a soldier – surely you can understand that, for is that not the true purpose of an army? You wish to see us all hang from the walls of your great White City but now that you know me for what I truly am, would you still drag me off to die at the end of a rope?"

Boromir shook his head and said "No. You have been much betrayed. None should blame you for the path that you have taken."

Pippin held Boromir's gaze while he said "And do you think that the same does not apply for each man out there? " Doubt chased across Boromir's face and Pippin drove home the final point. "Not one man here has not suffered unjustly at the rule of your father. They have lost love ones and everything they held dear. They could have become bitter and evil but instead each has committed himself to fight for others so that they do not suffer the same fate. Tell me Boromir of Gondor – do you still see us as lawless outlaws?"

Boromir looked away. He was feeling lost and confused. The world that he had seen so clearly only a day ago was slipping away from him leaving him in a place that he couldn't not find his way in. He had always been so confident in his own behavior. His father was grasping and power-mad but Boromir was better than that. But now a little hobbit had shaken his convictions and now he was adrift. He refused to look at Pippin anymore, unable to bear those too knowing eyes seeing his confusion.

Pippin could see that Boromir needed time to accept all that he had heard and so he stepped back. "I'll be back to take the tray and rebind your hands. However, I think we can make it a bit more comfortable for you. We're not completely uncivilized even if we do live in a cave." Pippin turned and exited the room. Boromir made his way gingerly to the tray and hobbled back to the cot. He wasn't very hungry after all he had heard, but he knew he needed to keep up his strength.

Still Pippin's words kept ringing through his head and finally he put down the spoon and set the food aside. It had all been so simple and clear before. He was here to capture a common outlaw known as the Fox. Only instead of capturing the Fox, the Fox captured him. And now the simple world he lived in had become so much more complex. Thinking about the Fox made him think of their encounter earlier

You dare speak to ME of honor when you show none of your own? Your soldiers bully those who are weaker than them and you do nothing to stop it. You should be protecting the poor and instead you sneer at them and treat them badly. A man in your position should lead by example but you have allowed your men to believe that it is right to take from those who cannot defend themselves.

Pippin said that no man here had not lost someone or something to Denethor's ambitions. What was it that The Fox had lost? What drove him out into the wilderness to live as he did? That he was a good tactician was clear. His raids were swift and efficient and his ability to evade pursuit amazing. Were he a soldier, Boromir would have made him a Captain and put him in charge of his most important company. But instead he was an outlaw. The enemy of all Boromir was supposed to defend. But was he really the enemy?

Boromir rubbed his eyes wearily. This was getting him nowhere. He was just too tired to sort it all out. He laid back down on the cot and shut his eyes. He had almost drifted to sleep when Pippin returned.

Pippin quietly cleared his throat and said "I'll need to bind your hands again but we'll tie them in front so at least you'll be able to sleep." Boromir wordlessly held out his hands and allowed himself to be tied up. Pippin looked at the man for a moment but refrained from saying anything. Silently he turned and left the room.

Boromir settled back down and closed his eyes. As sleep came to claim him, he found himself remembering the Fox's eyes. Blue like the sky on crisp fall day…


	10. Chapter Nine

Morning came after a restless night of dreams. Boromir felt tired and his arms ached from being tied up. Pushing himself upright he realized what had awakened him was someone approaching the room he was in. The curtain moved aside to reveal another one of The Fox's men – hooded and cloaked as they were the day before. A part of Boromir wondered if they slept like that, but the more practical side knew it was because they wanted to avoid being identified. A wise decision on the part of The Fox and his appreciation for the man's tactical abilities grew. The man approached and said "I'm here to take you outside so you can attend to business. I'm afraid we'll have to keep your hands bound as we can't afford you trying something foolish. I'll also need to cover your eyes so that you can't see any of us."

Boromir felt a moment of anger at this, but quickly realized that in their place, he would do much the same. It was the shrewd thing to do to insure that Boromir not only did not see any of the men, but also couldn't see the passages through which he walked. It would appear that The Fox has thought of all the details. It was no fool who held him captive.

Boromir nodded his agreement, at least grateful his captors were thinking of his bodily needs. The man came forward and bound a cloth over his eyes, completely obscuring his vision. Boromir waited until he was done and rose gingerly to his feet. Hands firmly, but carefully took his arm and lead the limping Boromir out of the room. They passed through a series of tunnels and Boromir was reminded that the cave that served as the hideout of The Fox and his men was quite extensive.

Once he had been let outside, the man said "I cannot leave you, but I promise you that you have been led away from sight of the sentries or anyone in the caves. "

Boromir was surprised by the man's consideration and muttered a muffled thank you. Dealing with his pants proved a bit tricky with the bound hands, but he was determined not to ask for any help from his guard. Some things you have to do for yourself. Once done, he heard the sounds of his guard approaching and once again felt the firm but careful grasp on his arm. The man was insuring that Boromir did not so much as stumble, a courtesy that Boromir would not have expected under the circumstances. It would appear that he would be treated with the respect due to his station.

They proceeded back into the cave and Boromir was grateful when they got back to his bunk. His ankle was throbbing painfully and he just wanted to sit and take the weight off it. Once he was seated, the guard removed his blindfold and said, "I will have food brought to you shortly. " He turned and exited the room.

Boromir settled back with a groan and propped his foot on the cot. He debated about trying to get his boot off, but decided that it would be far too tricky with his hands tied. It would just have to wait.

Faramir was waiting for Beregond when he entered the main area. "Why was Lord Boromir limping?" he asked as Beregond removed his cloak and mask.

Beregond shrugged and said, "He was limping when he arrived here yesterday. He must have injured himself while they were capturing him." He settled down at the table and began the process of repairing damaged arrows.

Faramir frowned and said, "Has anyone taken care of his injuries?"

Beregond thought for a moment and then shook his head with a tiny frown and said "No. In all the confusion over what to do with him and what your reaction would be, no one did. " He laid down the arrow he had begun to fix and said "I'll attend to it now."

Faramir gestured for him to sit down and said, "No, I'll handle it. I should have made inquires before now." He rubbed his eyes wearily and sighed. Having the man here was proving to be more difficult than he ever imagined.

He got up from the table and headed to their supply area and gathered up what he would need. Piling it all on a table, he then boiled water to prepare a tea of herbs that would ease the pain and swelling the man was no doubt suffering from. He felt a stab of guilt that he hadn't thought to ask of the man's condition. It was just that Boromir had made him so angry that he hadn't been able to be his usual calm observer. Well, he'd make up for it now.

Once the tea was done, he put it on a tray, along with all the other supplies. He then put on his hood and mask and headed down the hall to where the prisoner was. Pushing his way through the curtain, he made himself really look at the man who was his captive. He was eating a bowl of porridge that one of the other men had bought him but he put the bowl down when he saw Faramir enter.

Faramir walked towards the bed and set the tray down. "It's come to my attention that you are injured. If you tell me where you are hurt, I will tend to it. It should have been taken care of yesterday, but I'm afraid that my men failed to inform me that you had been injured."

Boromir looked in surprise at the man standing before him. There was no reason for The Fox to tend to him. He could have sent one of his men to do it or he could have just left Boromir to suffer. It's not like it was a life threatening injury. He was once again surprised by the man's compassion towards one who was his sworn enemy. He found himself wishing he could see the man's face.

Still, the man had asked him a question and he hadn't answered yet. He gathered his thoughts and said "It's my ankle. I sprained it when my horse was shot out from under me." A moment of sadness passed across his face as he thought of the mount that had been through many campaigns with him, but he knew that it was the fortunes of war.

Faramir saw the sadness and said, "I am sorry about your horse. I know that a soldier's horse is more than just a mount. " Then because there was really not much more to say, he reached onto the tray and took up a mug. He handed to Boromir and said, "Drink this. It will help with the pain and the swelling. I'm afraid that taking your boot off is not going to be pleasant."

Boromir just nodded and took the mug. He drank it down with only a slight wince at the bitter taste. He was use to it after years of soldiering. Once he had finished it, he set the mug down on the tray. Giving a wry smile he said "Well, might as well get this over with" and shifted so that his foot was now stretched out towards Faramir.

Faramir nodded and studied the boot for a moment. He unlaced it and grasped it firmly. "This is probably going to hurt. You might want to brace yourself." Once he saw Boromir shift to support himself more firmly, he gave a hard and swift tug and the boot came free.

Boromir bit his lip to prevent his cry of pain from escaping. It hurt a lot, but he was grateful that The Fox had done so quickly and decisively. It showed that the man could be tough when the situation required it.

Faramir set the boot aside and looked at the ankle, which was badly swollen and purple in color. He was concerned that there might be a broken bone. He began to gently probe the ankle and foot, testing for any signs of breaks. He then began to slowly move the foot, testing for range of motion. He was happy to see that the foot moved freely if painfully. He looked up through his lashes to monitor Boromir's response to his actions and saw that while the man was wincing and biting his lip, he was not in terrible pain. It looked like it was just a sprain, though a bad one.

Despite the discomfort of having his foot and ankle examined, Boromir found he couldn't look away from the long fingers that were moving across his skin. He could feel the calluses of a man who wielded a bow and a sword and yet the touch was surprisingly gentle. He felt a warmth build in his belly and he found himself wondering what it would feel like to have those hands touching him in other places as well.

He pulled his mind back sharply from such dangerous thoughts. These were not feelings to be having about the man who was holding you captive. Boromir swallowed hard and reminded himself that his response was just because it had been so long since he had been with someone. It had nothing to do with the man who knelt before him. He was just horny. Still, a treacherous part of his mind wished he could reach out and pull away the mask.

Faramir stopped his manipulation of Boromir's foot and said "Well, it's a bad sprain but nothing worse. I'll bind it for you and that should help bring down the swelling." He shifted so that Boromir's leg was supported across his thigh and grabbed the bandages. He then carefully and gently began to bind Boromir's foot.

Boromir closed his eyes to shut away the image of those tempting hands and tried to steady his breathing. He tried to focus on the pain to distract other parts of his body, but that only made him more aware of the hands that glided over his ankle and the feel of a muscular thigh shifting beneath his leg. Realizing it was only making things worse;he opened his eyes and focused on the cave wall behind Faramir's head. He then forced himself to think about all the times he had been made to sit through endless council sessions. Surely the thought of those prosy, old horrors would be enough to stop this unfortunate reaction to the man before him.

Faramir looked up at Boromir and saw that he was focusing on a spot behind him. Think that he was doing so because of the pain, he paused for a moment and said, "I know this hurts but I'm almost done. And the willow bark should be taking affect soon and that will help reduce the pain as well. Just give me another few moments and I will be finished." He waited for Boromir's response.

Faramir's soft words pulled Boromir back from a memory of an endless speech given by one of his father's cronies, and he blinked for a moment before looking at the man in front of him. He regretted it immediately as he found himself caught in compassionate blue eyes. Again, he found himself wishing that the mask would be removed and he could see the face of the man before him. He started to reach out when the feel of his bound hands brought him back abruptly to reality. He lowered his head and broke the spell. He found himself breathing far more rapidly then he liked and he closed his eyes to bring himself back under control. It wouldn't do to let The Fox see how much his presence affected him.

Faramir could see that Boromir was breathing more quickly than normal and was confused. While the ankle was painful, it shouldn't be getting this kind of response, especially from one who is a soldier. He studied the man before him, searching for some sign of the problem. Looking him over, he seemed healthy enough. In fact, for all that his clothes were rumpled and dirty, Boromir radiated a sense of life and vitality that few could match. Faramir could certainly see why the people of Minas Tirith were so in love with their Golden Knight. He was beautiful with eyes the color of the leaves of Ithilien in the spring. _But he does not belong here in Ithilien_ came a mocking voice in his head. Faramir looked down as the truth of that sunk in. This man was his prisoner and the son of his enemy. He would treat his injury and leave, as was the plan. He had far too much at stake to allow himself to get distracted - even by so handsome a face as Boromir's. With that resolved, he began to finish up wrapping Boromir's ankle.

Boromir could feel Faramir begin again and reminded himself over and over that this man was his enemy. That he was holding him captive and despite what he had been told, there were no guarantees that they wouldn't try to torture him for information or just kill him outright. But the words felt hollow and false as he looked at the man who was so carefully tending his ankle. Somehow he knew that this man would not go back on his word. He almost cried out in relief when The Fox finished and very gently moved his leg so that it was lying on the bed.

Faramir positioned Boromir carefully and then rose to his feet. He looked at Boromir and said, "You should stay off of that as much as possible. I'll see to it that my men continue to bring you willow bark tea to help reduce the swelling. I would guess that it should be feeling better in seven or eight days – if you keep it elevated and stay off it." He started to turn away but stopped when Boromir replied.

"Well, I had rather hoped to do a little hunting followed by a lovely hike in the woods, but I guess that will have to wait." Boromir didn't know why he said that but somehow he didn't want the other man to leave him.

Faramir paused and then replied, "No, I'm afraid the hunting will definitely have to wait. We are rather particular whom we let hunt in our woods. After all, you never know who will take it in their head to try to catch a fox." He looked thoughtfully over at Boromir who had the good grace to blush and said "Still, since you will be here a while, I guess we should find you something to help you pass the time. I can lend you some books if you like. I'm afraid we don't have the variety that the Archives of the Citadel has, but its still better than staring at the wall for hours at a time."

Boromir had never been much of a reader, but was willing to admit that it was a far better alternative than being left to his own thoughts. Especially since his own thoughts had turned rather treacherous when it came to a certain outlaw. Giving a nod he said "I thank you for the consideration. I am not use to idle time." He found he had to look away when he saw understanding in the blue eyes. How is it he could be so drawn to someone he had never truly seen?

Faramir felt a stirring of compassion towards the soldier who had likely had very little time that was his own. Enforced idleness was likely to sit very heavily with one who was use to being active. He would do what he could to make this go easier for him. He nodded one last time and headed out of the room. Mentally he was reviewing what he had that might be suitable for one such as Boromir. He smiled as he thought of the Elvish poetry that was currently resting by his bed. He felt pretty confident that he could eliminate that from the list. But he did have some tales of old Numenor that might be suitable. Lost in his own thoughts, he wandered back to the main area, still wearing his mask and hood.

He didn't notice a small form watching him from a storage area with a knowing grin on their face. Pippin watched as Faramir moved out of sight and then looked back down the tunnel from where he came. "Looks like things are going to get mighty interesting around here" thought Pippin as he set off down the tunnel to talk to Faramir. "Mighty interesting indeed!"


	11. Chapter Ten

**_This took far longer then I thought to get back to. Promise I won't let it go this long again!_**

Pippin had to hunt around until he found Faramir in his room, sorting through his meager supply of books. Once again, Pippin felt a momentary sadness that this intelligent and caring man was forced to live the way he did. Pippin watched as calloused hands tenderly caressed the soft leather bindings, his love for books clear in the gentle, sweet expression on his face. It wasn't right that this man ledan outlaw band. He should be spending his days translating rare manuscripts and foreign texts, perhaps even teaching. Instead, he made due with a handful of books they had salvaged from some of their raids and a few that Faramir carried with him from his former life. Prized possessions all and treated with the utmost respect and care. Pippin shook his head – there was no one else who could do what Faramir was doing but still, it was such a waste. When all was said and done, would he be able to go back to the life he once lived?

Pippin's movement in the doorway caught Faramir's attention and he smiled and said, "Come on in, Pippin. Was there something you needed?" He cleared away the books and offered Pippin a seat on the bed.

Pippin smiled at Faramir's thoughtfulness. The chair in here was far too high for hobbit comfort and Faramir offered the bed knowing that its lower height would be easier for him. Scrambling up he settled himself and then cocking his head towards the books said, "Doing a little bit of spring cleaning, are we?" He had a suspicion as to what it was really about, but was playing innocent to see how Faramir would react.

Faramir looked a little bit embarrassed and said "I'm trying to see what I have that our unexpected guest might read. As a soldier, he's not use to having time on his hands so I thought I could lend him something to keep his mind occupied." He picked up a book from the top of one pile, a faint blush on his cheeks.

Pippin fought back a grin. So Faramir was starting to warm to their new guest. Not terribly surprising, really. Physically he was the type that Faramir tended to respond to, and for all that he could be tough when leadership demanded, he was by nature a compassionate person. Show him someone who was suffering and Faramir would go out of his way to do something about it. And since their guest was currently Faramir's responsibility, that meant that his desire to be fair would start to override his natural inclination to dislike the arrogant Boromir of Gondor.

There were those who would argue that Pippin's plan was madness. That if Faramir was to fall for Boromir, it would only lead to disaster. But Pippin had learned a lot since he had been taken from the Shire and he knew that while Faramir was doing good work, that it would never be enough to keep up with the damage Denethor was inflicting. No, they needed a powerful ally and who better than Boromir, Captain-General of Gondor? Pippin smiled inwardly and then turned innocent green eyes back to Faramir.

"That's right nice of you. I know how much your books mean to you so it makes it a particularly grand gesture on your part. I hope he appreciates that." Seeing how Faramir squirmed slightly in embarrassment made it hard for Pippin to maintain his innocent expression, but he needed to gauge Faramir's state of mind. If he was willing to lend his precious books, it spoke to a definite softening of attitude. Now he just had to plant the seeds in Faramir's mind. Shifting slightly he said "Of course, it don't hurt that he's a fine looking man, now does it?" Pippin looked Faramir directly in the eye with this last statement.

Faramir blushed and looked away. "Pippin, that is not a topic to jest about. Let's not forget just why Boromir is here. Or who he is for that matter. I am doing this because we are not cruel and I will see that he is treated fairly while he is in our custody. That is all there is to it. " He stood rather stiffly and began quickly sorting books into piles.

Pippin was not put off by Faramir's reaction and said "I wasn't jesting - not really." He shifted so that he was kneeling up on the bed, better to look Faramir in the eyes. "I bring this up because I know that Boromir has the kind of looks that you find attractive. And while you may not want to admit it, you are attracted to him. But it is far more dangerous to deny and bury that attraction then to acknowledge it. Just because you feel it, does not have to mean you will act on it. You are far too noble to take advantage of someone who is in your custody, I know this. But you do yourself harm if you try to pretend that this does not exist."

Faramir glared at Pippin for a moment, then sighed and sunk down slowly onto the bed next to him. His shoulders slumped in defeat. Pippin threw a sympathetic arm around his shoulder and wisely said nothing. Finally Faramir raised his head and looked at Pippin. "I am truly a pathetic figure aren't I? To get caught by a pretty face. And the son of my enemy, no less." His lips were twisted in self-loathing.

Pippin rubbed his back and admonished "Hardly pathetic. And I have never known you to judge someone by their station rather than by their merits. If you are feeling something for Boromir, then I'd say that there is probably more there than meets the eye. After all, you saw a brave fighter in me and most would have said that a hobbit could never be more than a slave."

Faramir straightened up and said fiercely "Hobbits are some of the bravest and strongest people that I have seen. To survive all that has happened to you – that is the truest of all courage. Never doubt that you deserve your place here. You deserve that and so much more."

Pippin smiled wryly and said "I don't doubt it, not any more. But it was your belief in me that helped me to see what I had within me. You have a way of looking beyond what's on the surface and into the heart of a person. Even when they don't see it themselves. " Giving Faramir's shoulder a friendly squeeze he continued. "As for our guest, maybe there's more to him than even he can see. And if anyone can bring out the best in him, it would be you, Faramir. "

Faramir winced and groaned "Oh no, Pippin. Don't even suggest such a thing. It would be disaster pure and simple."

Pippin gave him a wide-eyed innocent look and said "What do you mean? I'm merely suggesting that you spend some time with him and talk. Man's got no real idea what his father is up to. About time that someone showed him the real impact of turning a blind eye."

Faramir was eyeing Pippin in disbelief. "Talk. That's all you're suggesting? Because I tell you right now, if you have any other ideas, you can get them right out of that devious little mind of yours. He's the son of the Steward , his heir. There is no way that any kind of liaison between us could bring anything other than disaster. I'm a wanted fugitive or have you forgotten?"

Pippin shook his head. "I haven't forgotten anything. But I can't see that having a few conversations with the man could lead to the downfall of all we've accomplished. And it just might win us a little sympathy. But I can see that this is a sensitive subject so I just leave it and you be." He slide down from the bed and began to walk toward the exit. Right before leaving, he turned and said "You may be an outlaw in the eyes of the law but in mine, you are the best of all men. " With a final smile, he turned and exited the room.

Faramir stared for a moment at the curtain that served as a door and then sighed and returned his gaze to the pile of books he had picked out for Boromir. Damn Pippin for stirring up things that he would rather not deal with! Things were hard enough for him to handle without adding this to the mix.

Convince Boromir to support them? He'd have better luck learning to fly! The man had come here to capture him. It was his sworn intention to see Faramir in chains before the Steward and convicted as a bandit. How was he to convince this proud, arrogant soldier to fight for peasants that he saw as inferior and not worth his time or attention? To fight his father who was building an empire that would be his to rule some day? What could Faramir possibly say that could get through years of belief that he was above such petty matters?

Shaking his head, he began to pace the small room. What could he say? He had always been taught that you should never turn away from potential support just because it seemed too hard to win. But convincing the son of your greatest enemy to join your cause is a fair sight harder than convincing a reluctant merchant to lower his prices to accommodate the poor. For starters, what did he have to offer that could compare to what Boromir would be giving up? The man would one day inherit wealth and power beyond most men's dreams. What incentive was there for him to give all that up on behalf of people he didn't even know?

Continuing to pace, he turned the issue over in his mind. The fact was that there really was no incentive beyond doing the right thing. His own life was a testimony to that. Living in a cave, hunted by the law – the rewards were certainly not tangible ones. But they were real for all of that. But how to convince someone who has lived a life of privilege that there was something to be gained by standing up for those in need?

Shaking his head, he realized it was nearly an impossible task. And yet, if he could succeed… Boromir could do a great deal of good for them. Even if he was unwilling to challenge his father openly, he could provide them with vital information, maybe even contacts deep within the chain of command. If he could convince Boromir to join them, it could be the break they need to turn the tide.

The first hurdle would be getting Boromir to trust him. Obviously things got off to a rocky start, but they had left things a bit less antagonistic after he treated Boromir's ankle. And since they would all be staying pretty close to base to avoid being captured by the law men and soldiers who would no doubt be combing the forests, there would be plenty of time for him to work on Boromir. He did have one advantage in that Boromir was not a man to be idle, so several days of confinement would have him happy to spend time with anyone – even his enemy. That last sentiment didn't make him feel too good but then again, this was not about creating a relationship, this was about winning a powerful ally to their cause.

As for any attraction he might feel towards the man, well, as Pippin said, he was not someone who let his desires rule his head. He would keep that firmly in check and focus on the matter at hand – which was winning Boromir to their side.

Having resolved that in his mind, he began to sort through the books once more, looking for ones appropriate for a soldier. They would provide him with a perfectly good reason to return to Boromir's room and give him a chance to show Boromir that he was not just some ruffian. It would take time but he was determined to win this battle.

Meanwhile, out in the hall, Pippin was grinning from ear to ear. The seeds had been planted, now he just had to wait for them to sprout…

**_To Be Continued..._**


	12. Chapter Eleven

Boromir had been attempting to distract himself by trying to recall all the taverns to be found on the first three levels of Minas Tirith, when he heard someone coming down the hall towards his cell. Frowning slightly, he wondered why someone would be coming to see him. It had only been a short time since The Fox had left him and it wasn't time for more medicine or food. He straightened up as best he could as he waited for what was next.

He was surprised to see The Fox come through the curtain bearing three books. He had not expected to see the man for quite some time nor had he expected that The Fox would bring the books himself. He found himself cheering up, though he could not have said why. The appropriate response to seeing one's captor should be fear or defiance. Eagerness was definitely not suitable behavior.

Trying to act casual, he sank back against the wall and schooled his features to look suitably calm and collected. He was particularly proud of the eyebrow he had quirked in question – a gesture he picked up from his father that he knew had the effect of annoying the person it was directed at.

"Well, two visits in one morning. Tell me, are you this attentive to all of your prisoners?" Boromir tossed off with what he thought was perfect nonchalance.

Faramir shook his head and said, "Since I don't make a habit to take prisoners, I've got nothing to compare my behavior to, but I'd like to think I would attend to anyone who was in my care, regardless as to why." He moved closer to the bed and held out the books. "I'm afraid this is the best I can offer. The History of Numenor should be of interest and I had a book of military campaigns that I thought you would like. The third is about the early days of Gondor, which I'm sure you've probably read many times, but sometimes there is a comfort in revisiting old friends." For a moment the lines of Faramir's body grew softer as happier memories held sway.

Boromir was fascinated by the change that came over The Fox. It was clear the man had a love of books, something he would never have suspected from a leader of bandits. It would appear that there was much more to The Fox than met the eye. Not that he could see much. The mask and hood were very much in place and Boromir found himself once again speculating on what lay beneath. Was he dark haired like most of the men of Gondor? His eyes were certainly not the gray of a typical Gondorian. Was he from Rohan? He didn't think so. The Fox didn't have the accent of a Rohirrim and the horse people had no use for books. This man was a decided mystery and Boromir's curiosity was piqued.

Faramir pulled himself back from his memories, realizing he must have looked quite foolish to the man sitting before him. He placed the books down on the bed beside Boromir and tried to recover some dignity. "Hopefully this will keep you occupied for a while. I'm afraid that once you are done with these, you will be left with collections of poetry and books on plants and animals. The latter are useful to one who lives in the woods, but not likely to be of much interest to you." Faramir smiled at Boromir, forgetting the mask that hid his face.

Boromir found himself studying The Fox's covered face. As Captain-General he had be good at reading people, but he found the inability to see The Fox's expressions a bit frustrating. Still, it looked as though there was a twinkle in the man's eyes and Boromir found himself responding. With a grin of his own he replied, "Well, in light of the fact that I'm suppose to be tracking a wily outlaw through the wilds of Ithilien, I guess it would behoove me to learn a little bit more about these things. Though, in truth, the wiser thing would have been to learn all of this before I set foot in your territory. A true bit of arrogance on my part, thinking I could best you on your own ground. A good soldier should know better than that. I'm fortunate that you are a gracious captor. " He teasingly bowed in courtly fashion.

Faramir laughed and said, "Well, a gentleman must always be hospitable, no matter how uninvited the guest. Though I'm afraid you will find the menu rather uninspiring. While they are some of the finest rangers ever to grace Ithilien, cooking is not really a skill they excel at. Only one of them can turn out anything that can truly pass for good food, so we all look forward to his turn in the cooking roster."

Boromir chuckled. "Believe me, I've eaten more than my share of camp cooking and my ability to choke down the truly inedible is quite high. My soldiers are also some of the best, but cooking is not a skill any of them possess. I've often said that we should add a class at the Academy that teaches them how to cook. After all, an army marches on its stomach, so shouldn't that stomach be full of food it can actually digest?"

Faramir laughed and said "A fine point. So have you actually proposed this or is it merely an idea whose time has not yet come?"

"Alas, it was dismissed as merely me playing the clown. Though I suppose it's just as well. Who would we get to teach it? We'd actually have to find someone who knew how to make edible food and if he exists in this army, I've yet to encounter him. And believe me, I've been looking!" An impish grin split Boromir's face.

"Yes, I'd imagine if you had found him, he would be a most treasured member of your cadre and kept safe from all possible harm. I imagine you'd even create a special designation for him. " Pausing for a moment to think he teased, "How about Cookpot Commander?"

Boromir chuckled. "That's a good one. Though that may be starting him out rather high in the command chain. Perhaps he should start out as Campfire Corporal or Soupspoon Sergeant. After all, we need to give him room for advancement."

"So true. After all, he may learn new skills. Perhaps discover the use of new spices?" Relaxed, Faramir unthinkingly adjusted the hood, pushing it back a bit from his face. He was unused to having to keep it on in normal situations.

Boromir was laughing happily and didn't notice right away that The Fox had revealed more of himself. He was enjoying the banter and complete lack of formality. While he would spend his off time with his men, there was always an underlying element of rank that colored the proceedings. It was relaxing to just be himself, without title or rank getting in the way.

Intending on making a comeback to The Fox's last sally, he noticed that the hood had slipped back a bit. While the mask still obscured his face, he could see the man's startling blue eyes more clearly and it made his fingers itch to push it back just a little bit further. He could almost make out the color of the hair hiding beneath the hood.

Sensing Boromir's assessing gaze, Faramir realized he had allowed his hood to slip. Pulling it back into place, he gave Boromir a nod and said, "This getup is not so enjoyable to wear indoors. In fact there are days when I would gladly never wear it again. You are fortunate that your position requires you to be readily identified. Anonymity, while necessary, is quite inconvenient to maintain." He nodded once again to Boromir and turned to leave.

Boromir found himself searching for any means to keep the man here. He was surprised at the response, but dismissed it as merely his boredom at being alone. He didn't allow himself to think that it could be anything more than that or that he could be feeling drawn towards his mysterious captor.

Hastily he blurted out "Recognition has its own inconveniences. " When The Fox paused, then turned back, he realized he would need to say more than that if he wanted the man to stay. Mentally scrambling, he tried to come up with something more interesting to say. Finally he said, "You probably think that the attention is welcome, but it really isn't. People always expect me to be on display. Strong and brave and noble. The Golden Knight they call me. Do you have any idea how much I hate that name? Its about how I look – it has nothing to do with me. But the Valar forbid that I allow myself to be seen looking anything less than presentable. It's why I spend most of my time with the army. At least there I am not a prize animal on display at the fair." Boromir's tone was quite bitter and he was surprised that he had confessed so much to a virtual stranger.

Faramir shrugged and said, "You are the son of the most powerful man in the land. That makes you the greatest prize there is on the marriage market. I am surprised you have managed to avoid being caught for so long. You must be very nimble indeed, for I have heard that noble women are more persistent than any of the sheriff's men who pursue me. Of course, while the prize on my head is sizeable indeed, it hardly merits when compared the prize of capturing Boromir of Gondor." It was an unkind jab, but when you live in a cave and have to hide out from the law, hearing that someone's biggest worry was marriage-minded females was enough to make you rather unsympathetic.

Boromir glared at The Fox for a moment, finding it hard to believe that the man would have the nerve to mock him about his problem. He shifted to pull himself up stiffly, intending to make a cutting remark when he felt a rough patch on the wall dig into his back. This brought him back to the reality that he was currently sitting in a cave. A cave that served as the dwelling place for the man before him. Moreover, the man lived in this cave because he was the most wanted man in Gondor. Boromir's marriage problems must seem rather petty in comparison. After all, if he made a bad move, he'd only end up married to some scheming minx. If The Fox made a wrong move, he'd end up swinging from a rope. Sighing he said, "I must sound rather pathetic to you. Complaining about being stalked when those who hunt you have much worse fates in mind for you."

Faramir looked at Boromir in surprise. That was an unexpected concession from the man. "Perhaps it is unfair to compare. While I'd have a rather nasty time of it, it would only be for a short time and then over. You would be forced to endure a lifetime of punishment. I'm not sure which I would choose - not that I'd get to chose. Somehow I don't think that I would seem like much of a catch on the marriage market."

Boromir looked Faramir with a considering eye, and said, "Well, you certainly could provide well for your wife. That last raid alone would keep even the most extravagant of brides in dresses and jewels." Thinking of that made him wonder exactly where The Fox kept his stash. He didn't really believe the stories that The Fox gave away all his wealth.

Faramir shook his head. "I'm afraid my bride would be wearing rags since that money has gone to help the poor. No, any woman who was foolish enough to take me on would be living right here in the caves with me. No parties, no fancy dresses and jewels. Somehow I don't think there will be any takers. "

Boromir looked at The Fox in disbelief. "Are you telling me you gave away the entire shipment? But that was nearly 5,000 gold pieces!" Boromir shook his head, not willing to believe that anyone would give away that much money.

Faramir merely shrugged. "That's a drop in the bucket when compared with how much money your father, gouges the peasants for. But it will at least see that the worst hit will have money enough to buy food for the winter. Still, there are many others who will barely get by." Faramir sighed heavily. He knew he was doing everything he possibly could, but it still saddened him to know how many people he couldn't reach.

Boromir was astounded. The stories were true. The Fox did give away all his ill-gotten gains. But what kind of man would go through so much danger without getting any kind of profit from it. Looking at The Fox with new eyes he said, "But why go through all of this? You risk your life and get nothing for it. Do you at least keep some of the money for yourself?"

Faramir shook his head. "The money is needed by those who can not earn enough to pay their taxes and buy food for their families. We are able to hunt and there are those who help us by giving us the food they can spare. Our lives are simple here – they have to be. Without that money, many would lose their homes. I would rather do without luxuries like lamp oil than know that a family lost their farm or business because I kept money for myself."

Boromir shook his head. Lamp oil was hardly a luxury, especially to one who lived in a cave. He looked over at the tallow candle that served to keep him from darkness and then at the man who stood before him. When he came to Ithilien, he saw The Fox as a greedy bandit who had become bold enough to start raiding big convoys. A nuisance who had found a way to convince gullible peasants that he was really on their side. Since being captured, he had come to appreciate The Fox's tactical abilities and intelligence. The man had been handed a difficult situation and had come up with a way to neutralize the damage. Moreover, he had treated Boromir with absolute fairness, even though Boromir had come to Ithilien for the sole purpose of capturing him. Had the situation been reversed, he would not have been anywhere near as fair to The Fox. Far from it in fact.

How had a man who had brains, talent, determination and leadership ability end up in Ithilien playing bandit? With his education, he could have made officer easily enough and Boromir would have been glad to have him working for him. What made him come to Ithilien? And who was he? He spoke of books as one who spent a great deal of time with them, but that wasn't the life of a farmer or craftsman's son. He was a trained fighter yet he hadn't attended the academy. There was no way someone of his abilities would not have been brought to Boromir's attention if he had. So where exactly did The Fox come from?

Faramir watched the expressions chase across Boromir's face. That he had a hard time accepting that Faramir gave the money away was not a surprise. Boromir came from a world of privilege and power. To give something away without getting something else in return was a completely foreign concept to him. He knew it would take time to get Boromir to see why it was necessary. But the considering look had Faramir a bit nervous. What was going on in that soldier's mind of his? Had Faramir given something away? He ran his mind over the conversation and could find nothing that should be causing such speculation. Still, Boromir was no fool and it should be expected that he would be trying to figure out some plan, some tactic to use next. Best get out of there since there was no point in providing him with more to work with.

He cleared his throat and said, "Well, I have things that I must be attending to. I hope the books can keep boredom at bay for at least a small time. Be sure to keep off your ankle as much as possible. I know that sitting still is not your style but it will never heal if you walk about on it." Faramir turned and made for the exit.

Boromir watched the retreating back and felt a twinge of regret. Reaching for a book, he realized it would be hard to read with his hands tied. He called out to The Fox "Wait a moment. " The Fox turned, but it was clear he was not happy at being stopped yet again. Boromir held up his hands and said "It will be difficult to read like this." He looked at The Fox hopefully.

Faramir sighed and said "Untying you means endangering my men. I can't risk having you trying to escape. I'm sorry." He turned once again, hoping to get out of there. He felt rather guilty about keeping the man bound.

Boromir sighed and then said, "What if I give you my word not to try to escape? To be honest, I wouldn't get very far. I can't walk, I have no weapons, and even if I somehow managed to get past your men, I have no idea where I am. I'd very likely die in the woods somewhere. You have said you will release me unharmed and I believe you. Frankly, I'd be a fool to risk an escape and I didn't make Captain-General by doing foolish things."

Faramir stared at Boromir long and hard. The practical side of him told him he'd be five kinds of idiot to untie Boromir. But the tactical side of him said that accepting Boromir's word was a great way of earning the man's trust. Weighing the pros and cons, he decided that he would take the risk.

"If I agree to leave you untied, you must agree not only that you will not try to escape, but you will not to make contact with me or any of my men. When they enter the room, you will remain seated and will stay seated until they leave again. You may speak to them, but you will in no way make physical contact. When you are taken from this room, you will not only be bound but also blindfolded and you will submit to this without resistance. Those are the conditions you must agree to if I am to agree to leave you untied while in this room. Do you give me your word to abide by all of this?"

Boromir frowned at the list of conditions, but had to admit that they were wise precautions. Once again, The Fox showed himself to be thinking farther ahead than Boromir. Should he agree to this, he would not only be unable to escape, but would be unable to do anything that would help him identify The Fox or any of his men. But if he did not agree, he would still not be able to accomplish any of those things and he would be vastly uncomfortable. Best to agree to the conditions and free his hands.

"I swear that I will not attempt any kind of escape. I also swear that I will make no attempt to touch you or any of your men should they approach me. I also swear to submit to blindfold and binding when being taken from this room. Does that meet with your approval? Can I be freed now?" He held up his hands toward The Fox.

Fighting down the part of his mind that was screaming at him that this was a terrible idea, he walked over to the bed and began untying Boromir. Once he had freed the man's hands he said, "Break your word and you will find I am not so kind or accommodating." Then without another word, he turned and walked from the room.

Boromir rubbed his wrists to bring circulation back into them and stared at the curtain that The Fox had just walked through. Most people, his father included, would have screamed at him for making such a promise, but he knew he had done the right thing. By cooperating, he was ensuring that nothing happened to him. He was in no shape to try to escape and by making such an agreement he had won some good will with his captor. He wasn't sure why that mattered so much to him, but it seemed important and Boromir wasn't one to question his impulses much. They usually served him in good stead.

Looking at the books beside him he picked up the first one. The History of Numenor. His tutors had tried to drum such information into him, but he had always been too impatient to listen. He had always wanted to be out on the practice field rather than trapped behind a stuffy desk. Guess it was time for him to learn it now. He settled back against the wall and began to read.

**_To Be Continued..._**


	13. Chapter Twelve

Faramir was not looking forward to explaining to Eomer why he had agreed to untie Boromir. He knew his second in command would not agree with his decision, nor would he believe there was any chance of convincing Boromir of the righteousness of their cause. The only reason he had been so quiet about the man's presence was that his being here was not by Faramir's choice. But this had been his decision and he knew Eomer would have much to say on the matter.

Sighing Faramir went looking for Eomer, knowing that he would need to tell him before he told the other men. He needed Eomer on his side, not just because he was his second, but because Eomer was his best friend. It was hard enough to do what he did without this causing a rift between them.

He found Eomer doing some sewing out near one of the lesser used entrances. It was a surprisingly domestic moment from a man who was more at home with a sword in hand rather than a needle. Faramir's smile only widened when Eomer looked up and scowled.

"You find it amusing that I do women's work?" He jabbed the needle hard into the shirt he was mending as if it were an enemy needing slaying. He then set the shirt aside and said "So, what brings you to my side?" He looked Faramir over critically and said "You seem calm enough. I take it then that our unwelcome guest has behaved himself."

Faramir nodded, unsurprised that Eomer knew where he had been Knowing that Eomer was not one for words, he got directly to the point. "I made a bargain with Lord Boromir so that he could stay untied while he remains in our custody. He has given his word to cooperate and so I've given him the use of his hands."

Eomer's response was as Faramir expected. "Are you out of your mind! You've freed him? You know what will happen to all of us should he escape! This is the best location for our base. We cannot afford to have it discovered!" He had risen to his feet and was pacing angrily. "I cannot believe you did this without consulting me. If you had, I would have talked you out of this madness. You must rescind this at once. Never mind, I'll go do it myself." he said and made to head back into the main area of the caves.

Faramir grabbed Eomer's arm and said "No. I will not rescind my promise. " He continued on, overriding Eomer's angry retort. "Listen to me. I am aware of the enormous risk I am taking here. A risk that applies to all of us, not just me. But I think that we have a chance to show Lord Boromir what he has been blind to all this time. We have a chance to win support at a level that could change the tides for us. Yes this is a risk but its one whose reward makes it worth taking. As it is now, we are barely making a scratch on the surface of the suffering that is out there. Lord Boromir is the son of the Steward. One day he will be the Steward. We can't let this opportunity pass –there is too much at stake and too few of us. Please Eomer – I need you on my side on this." He looked at Eomer pleadingly.

Eomer pulled his arm out of Faramir's grasp and growled, "I cannot believe you allowed that bastard to charm you. Are you a blushing maiden to allow honeyed words to cozen you to rash acts? By the gods, Faramir – I thought you had more control than that!"

Faramir stiffened alarmingly and said in a cold and controlled voice "You go too far, Eomer. I was neither charmed nor seduced into anything. I choose to untie him. I made that choice and I stand by it. Now you can back me on this or not, as you chose but I will discuss this no further. " He turned to make his way back into the main cave area.

Eomer realized that he had insulted Faramir unjustly and moved to stop him. "Wait. I am sorry. You are right, that was an unfair thing to say. You have always shown good judgment – even in the face of your own personal needs. You are a good leader and I was wrong to accuse you of misdeed just because I have doubts about the wisdom of this course. " He pushed a strand of long blonde hair away from his face and sighed. "I guess I'm just upset that you didn't consult me first. "

Faramir put his hand on Eomer's shoulder in a gesture of forgiveness and friendship and said, "It came up rather quickly. Believe me, I did not go in there intending to untie the man. I was there to give him something to read to keep him occupied. But Pippin came to see me as I was choosing what to give him and he made me realize that we can't go on as we are. There just aren't enough of us and the risks increase every day. We need more support at the higher levels of government. It's not enough that we return money to the poor. For one thing, it's never enough. Too many suffer and there is just no way to reach them all. What we need are people in power who will stand up to Denethor and rein him in. Boromir is Captain-General of Gondor and the future Steward. If we can win him to our cause, he has the connections to do what we can never do on our own. He can reach the people who collectively have the power to control Denethor. And as heir apparent, he could bring them together. It's a risk, Eomer but one we have to take."

Eomer looked thoughtful but doubtful. "What makes you think you can win him over? He's got a stake in keeping things the way they are. "

Faramir nodded, but said, "I thought very much the same thing, but in talking to him, I've come to realize that Lord Boromir knows little about how the policies his father creates affects the people. As a solider, he has isolated himself from the people, allowing orders to dictate his decisions. But he is a man of honor and I believe that if he is made aware of what is happening, he will want to do something to change it. "

Eomer shook his head in disbelief. "You are a fool, Faramir. You think that deep down everyone has a sense of honor like you do. But I tell you, that one will not care about others' fates. It is only his own that concerns him." Faramir opened his mouth to argue and Eomer held up his hand to forestall him. "But foolish or no, I will support you on this. We're in this together, fool's quest or no."

Faramir smiled and gave Eomer a big hug. "Thank you, my friend. It means a great deal to me to have you on my side. I promise you, I will exercise every caution and in two or three week's time, when it has grown quiet again, he will be on his way to Minas Tirith. I will not risk our safety by keeping him here any longer than that – regardless of how close I might be to success." Seeing the grudging look on Eomer's face he decided to leave the man alone for now. They could talk more on this later when Eomer had become more accepting of the plan.

"Well, I'd best tell the rest of the men so there are no ugly incidents. I dare say there will be others who will think me mad for this." He gave Eomer a self-mocking smile and then turned and headed back into the main caverns.

Eomer watched Faramir walk away and allowed himself to show the concern he was feeling. He knew Faramir believed he saw signs of potential within Boromir, but Eomer knew differently. And since Faramir was far too good a person to protect himself the way he should, it would be up to Eomer to see that Boromir knew better than to try to charm his way into Faramir's good graces. No one hurt Faramir – not on his watch!

He headed back in, making sure to avoid the cavern where Faramir was talking to the other men. He grabbed up his mask and hood and pulled them on and then headed down to the room where Boromir was being held.

Pushing past the curtain, he saw the prisoner lounging back and reading. Seeing Boromir looking so comfortable caused Eomer to grow angry again. He strode to where Boromir was sitting and grabbed the book from his hands. He threw it down on the bed and glared at Boromir. "So, you think you are clever, don't you?"

Boromir had been surprised to see someone come through the curtain. He knew right away that he had never seen this man and it became clear quickly that this man did not like Boromir. His accent proclaimed him a Rohirrim, which explained the instant dislike. Boromir had spent some time in Rohan and knew first hand how much the people had resented the Gondorian presence in their land. He wondered if he had personally encountered this particular Rohirrim or if he just hated Boromir for who he was. He imagined he would find out soon enough.

Deciding that the wisest course for now was to be non-confrontational, he sat up straight and said "And what is it that I am supposed to have been so clever with?" He suspected it was about getting his hands left unbound but he was far too experienced to make assumptions.

Eomer bristled at Boromir's remark, believing Boromir to be mocking him. "You know what I refer to. You think because you wheedled and charmed your way into getting your hands free that you have somehow gained an advantage. Well I will tell you right now, step so much as a hair out of line and you will answer to me. The Fox has been quite generous to you because he is a fair person, but if you are thinking of taking advantage of that generosity, think again. My loyalty is to The Fox and that means I will protect him, even if it's from himself." Eomer leaned closer to Boromir and growled "Have I made myself abundantly clear?"

Boromir nodded and said "Yes, quite clear." And then because his curiosity could not be contained he added, "The Fox must be something quite special to inspire such loyalty. " He knew he was running the risk of antagonizing the man, but after his last encounter with The Fox, he wanted to learn more about the man. He was a puzzle and one that Boromir was itching to solve. He couldn't exactly explain what it was about the man that drew him so, but he found himself wanting to understand just what made the man tick.

Eomer sized up Boromir, trying to gauge why the man was asking. Looking at Boromir he had to admit that the man was certainly good looking. Years of soldiering had given him a muscular frame and the blonde hair and green eyes gave him an exotic look for a Gondorian. In that he had something in common with Faramir who inherited his red-gold hair and blue eyes from his mother rather than the Gondorian dark hair and gray eyes. And while Faramir was not someone to let a handsome face win him over, there was no escaping the fact that Boromir had just the kind of look that would appeal to Faramir.

So the question became, would Boromir try to trade those looks for more thanjust a few liberties?

Eomer scowled at Boromir and said careful "Yes, he is very special. There is not one man here who wouldn't give his life for him. Never have I met another man who has his courage and nobility. We follow him because he would never ask us to take a risk that he would not do himself. We reward that care and fairness with our unwavering loyalty. So I tell you again, think to harm him and you will answer to me. I do not have his fairness or his compassion and so am not burdened with the need to play by the codes of nobility. I don't like you or what you stand for. I would have no problem showing you a few manners"

Boromir nodded and wisely kept his mouth shut. It was clear this man was harboring more then a grudge against him and now that he believed that Boromir had used his charm on the Fox to get the liberty of his hands, it gave him one more thing to hate him for. And since Boromir's current state of "safety" existed solely because of The Fox, it would behoove Boromir to not give him any reason to have to choose between his prisoner and one of his men. So he kept quiet and waited for what the cloaked man would do next.

Eomer waited for a response from Boromir and was slightly disappointed that the man merely nodded and said nothing more. Still, it was clear that he had gotten his message through to him and that was what mattered. The Gondorian pig would think twice before trying to use Faramir for his own gain. Giving one final glare, he turned and left swiftly.

Boromir looked at the curtain and frowned deeply. Perhaps he couldn't be completely sure of The Fox's promise of safety… Still, the Rohirrim had not actually laid a hand on him, merely warned him not to step out of line. Camcir would probably have done the same thing in these circumstances. Thinking of Camcir, Boromir felt a stab of guilt. The man had tried to warn him that he was being hasty and he had brushed him off. When he got out of this, he made a pledge to himself to listen to the man when he advised him. In fact, he rather wished the man were here to advise him now.

Boromir sighed and resigned himself to his own council. That the Rohirric had come of his own will was clear. He saw himself as defending The Fox against a crafty foe – one who would use underhanded tricks to get his way. That last part rankled Boromir, but he had to admit that such an attempt would be in keeping with someone of lesser pride and the Rohirric had no reason to think highly of him.

Still, the Rohirric had been concerned enough to warn Boromir away. Does that mean he is concerned that The Fox might be susceptible to such a ploy? The thought sent a pleasant tingling through Boromir and he shook his head to clear it of such thoughts. He was in a dangerous situation and it would be foolhardy to allow himself to be distracted by ill-timed attraction. Besides, how can you feel desire for someone you have never truly seen?

Determined to put such thoughts behind him he picked up the book and opened it to the page he had been reading. Still, it was rather hard to concentrate when his mind kept replaying the feel of calloused yet gentle hands and blue eyes filled with warmth and laughter…

6


End file.
